He caught her when they landed, else she would have been thrown to the ground. His arms cascaded around her shoulders protectively, but they let go too soon.
He stood vacantly beside her, watchful of her as she gathered herself together. She was flustered by the sudden contact with his body that she had been without for too long.
And she was so distracted by him that it took her a moment to clock in her surroundings. The two of them stood in the midst of a cabin with a rather grand interior. Very familiar, almost nostalgic. It gave her the strangest feeling.
It wasn't until she glanced to her left, catching the picture of a deep blue lake through several lattice windows which decorated the wooden walls, that she realised where she was standing.
The water of the lake glistened and sparkled beneath the sun, its reflection catching through the glass panes of the chalet. The sounds of the leaves among the walls and the fresh hints of eucalyptus aromas brought her immediately back to her childhood.
"Oh my god. How—? When—?" she gaped, gazing around in awe at her home from her childhood.
It appeared unchanged from what she could remember of it. The interior was all the same as it had been before, colours and accents, decorated with her mother's familiar rustic touches. And the lake that she had captured in her mind was more serene than she had ever recalled.
"I can't believe you remembered!"
"It's not something I could have forgotten," he said, modestly, amused by her astonishment.
"How did you find it?"
"I've been looking since the summer. There hadn't been much to do and I needed a—" his brows threaded together firmly. "—distraction. You said it was in the Lake District and I figured after Dumbledore's death, the protection on this place would have lifted."
She saw the emotionless facade flicker onto his face briefly when he mentioned Dumbledore, but recovered this, letting down his guard.
"I eventually found it a few months ago and reapplied the wards, added a few more. We're safe here."
She let out a breath she hadn't realised she was holding. It was what she needed to hear.
"You should have seen the dust," he chuckled. "Had to get a few House Elves to help me clean it all. They won't say a word, of course."
She couldn't really understand. After all, he said in the letter they wouldn't be with each other again.
"You did all this—why?"
There was no hesitation in his reply. Just pure sincerity and meaning in his tone.
"You know why."
Among the pain that dredged through her soul, her heart still managed to flutter all the same. The silence between them held enough tension to stop her heart.
"But you—you didn't want me anymore," she whispered, looking down at his hands. Anywhere but his eyes.
"What?" his tone was disbelieving.
"The letter."
His jaw clenched in strain as soon the words left her mouth. She couldn't assess his reactions as easily anymore. He was so different than before, it was harder to reach and grasp his soul. More torn apart than he had ever been. The deep shades of purple underneath his eyes displayed that.
His eyes squeezed shut temporarily, before they flickered open and he seemed to understand.
"The minute you went missing, I couldn't care less about the past," he affirmed, setting his jaw. "I knew you were safe in Hogwarts. I knew where you were."
She waited for him to elaborate.
"Nott wrote to me several times, gave me updates. When you were taken, he sent word."
She watched as he struggled to continue.
"I looked for you."
"You did?"
He stared at her dubiously, as if her question had been a stupid one to ask.
"I tried. And I—I fucking failed," a sudden neurotic anger possessed him as his eyes flashed with rage, the storm curling up and projecting outwards.
She didn't know what to say.
She could feel the Dark Magic which possessed him. She remembered the feeling. It made her neurotic, uncertain of whether she wanted to indulge it completely or flee from him. But she knew she'd rather die than leave.
She'd stay. Stay until she'd drink the Dark Magic straight from him.
"I failed you. I'm sorry, I understand if you will never forgive me for that."
She went to speak, but he continued.
"I'll bear my peace with it. But I need you to know—I looked for you everywhere, Athena. And I did some fucked up shit, I mean I-I hurt people to—to make them tell me what they knew, even removed some of their fucking memories, made them lose their minds and the entire fucking time, you were in my goddamn cellar."
She suddenly remembered what Dean had mentioned. The good news he had brought them.
"It was you?"
He looked straight through her, a solace worn upon his countenance, making her blood turn to ice and causing her bones to shiver.
"Apparently they—they thought it was the Order," she stated.
"I had to do it. I needed to find you," he clarified, his tone clipped.
His words gave her no comfort. He needed her to forgive him, but she had already forgiven him long ago.
"You couldn't have known. Don't blame yourself—for any of this. There was a deterrent charm on the cellar keeping you away," she informed. "Even if you had tried to get down there, you wouldn't have been able to."
Nothing she was saying was making it any better for him. Nothing could ever soothe his sorrow, nor hers.
"What they were going to make me do—" he began, a slight tremble in his tone. "I never had any intention of killing you. I need you to know that."
His statement caught her off guard. She hadn't expected him to address that so abruptly.
She just stared, allowing him to continue.
"I had a plan. Who knows if it would have worked," he said. "Understand that I'd—I'd rather have killed every person in that room than lay a finger on you."
A small sob escaped her and she couldn't prevent it.
"Greene, I've done the most terrible things. If you knew, I don't think you'd ever want to be near me again."
She knew and felt no differently.
"I already know," she informed him. "I saw the letters you wrote to Theo."
His eyes widened, his upper lip curling as he clenched his fist.
"What?"
"He showed me."
"That piece of—I'm gonna fucking—" he seethed.
"No, don't. It was me—I made him."
She still couldn't bring herself to look him in the eye.
"And you—you don't care?" he asked.
"Of course I care. But I certainly don't condemn you for doing any of those things. We need to do what we have to in order to survive, right? It's not like you had any fucking choice."
His reserve towards her frustrated her. She'd expected this from the very first moment they spoke, but it was worse now. Although there was familiarity, the difference in him was too extensive. The blankness behind his eyes was better at concealing the truth of his emotions. She found it more difficult to read him.
"Athena, I'm so fucking sorry for—"
"Please—don't. I don't want you to apologise. It's in the past," she sighed, ignoring the wrenching pain in her chest. "Just leave it there—leave it alone."
Because she had the feeling they didn't have very long together, and she certainly didn't want to waste that time fretting over what had already happened. What couldn't be changed.
"I only want to be here with you now—" she continued, but suddenly her heart plummeted when hypocritically recollecting the past. "—if you'll want me again," she tried to hold back the heavy lump of emotion in her throat, preparing for her heart to be torn apart for the hundredth time.
She didn't know why he came here. She'd hoped it had been the same reason as hers, but she couldn't be sure. It seemed likely that he would say no. It was still too unsafe, he was a risk, two months ago his family were about to have her killed.
Too many reasons not to be together. The reasons they had ignored before, that had lead them here.
"You think I don't want you?" he asked, unbelieving.
She made no reply, chaotically fidgeting with her hands, looking down at them, because she knew if she let herself look at him, she would only burst into tears.
She could feel his absence again and he hadn't even left. The gaping hole in her heart that had been temporarily filled by just being close to him, was beginning to fray open.
One of his hands enclosed over both of hers, putting a stop to their chaotic fidgeting. He loomed over her and he was so close. Closer to her than he had been in what felt like forever.
"I will always be yours," he uttered, brushing his fingertips along her jawline, his icy touch making her flinch.
She recalled the letter, felt herself perishing internally.
His hand tilted her head upwards, thumb brushing against her skin, forcing her eyes to fall onto his. And it was like gazing into a storm over a battlefield.
"How could you even begin to think that I wouldn't want you?"
"You said in the letter—"
"Forget what I said in the letter. That day—all this time spent away from you, when I spent months considering the possibility that you were dead and feeling what a world without you in it was like—I realised I couldn't be without you. I never want to be without you again. So forget what I said."
His hand moved to her cheek, grabbing hold of her even more longingly.
"I've been dead inside for a long time, but you make me feel fucking alive. You're everything to me, Athena."
And once again, like a moth fluttering to an incandescent flame, she was his. She had always been his.
"You're everything," he whispered, caressing the surface of her cheeks with his thumb, swiping at the fallen tears and smoothing them into her skin.
He leaned forwards, his lips plastering against her forehead, setting her soul alight. Cold yet bright like a star.
"So beautiful," he whispered into her lips before they brushed against hers, melting her internally like liquid gold.
His taste, his smell, the shape of his lips: all so familiar, it felt as if they had never been apart.
She leaned into his chest, allowing his arms to take hold of her completely, the shape of her moulding perfectly around his body. His hand grasped the nape of her neck, steadying her in front of him.
Each kiss was a perpetual bliss of passionate stings. His lips detached from hers, pressing against every inch of her face, across her jaw and along her throat. Kissing over every place that his lips had lingered before.
"Draco—" she moaned breathlessly against his ear, the butterflies in her core fluttering at light speed.
His lips were smothered on her neck, sucking at the skin to leave bruising love bites.
"Draco—" she repeated, nestling her hands in his hair and scrunching her fingers through his roots, earning a pleasureful whimper from him. "Tell me I'm yours."
It's all she wanted to hear.
The word that lived within her. That one word from him had been the only thing she'd longed to hear for months.
He responded to her words by straightening up, cupping his hands over her cheeks, balancing his forehead against hers, noses brushing together. The familiar possessiveness brewed within the storm of his silver eyes. The way he looked at her, confirmed she was his. And as he spoke, she could feel his breath brush softly against her lips.
"You're mine," his mouth folded over hers, and between passionate kisses, he repeated, "Mine—all fucking mine."
And for this moment, everything seemed radiantly perfect.
There was no conception of the world outside of theirs. No past, no future, only the present. Only the feel of his lips on hers, his hands and his silver eyes. His hot breath on her skin, and stinging kisses that enlivened her spirit. Only the sound of his sighs and whimpers when she'd pull tighter at his hair.
And when he slipped off her blouse, letting it fall to her feet, his fingers methodically caressed her chest, memorising her through his touch.
"So fucking gorgeous," he sighed against her lips.
She shivered as his cold fingers came into contact with her back, unclasping her bra, and banishing that too. She stood before him, exalted by his touch as his finger tips trailed lightly between her shoulder blades.
"My beautiful," he whispered into her mouth, praisingly, cupping her breast in the palm of his hand.
His lips drew back to hers, kissing her vivaciously each time she moaned in response to his hand as it caressed over her heaving chest.
Once again, she was reunited with the erotic feelings that she hadn't realised she'd missed so much until this very moment when the touch of his fingers to her pebbled nipple made her core clench and contract. She could feel the pleasure pooling between her legs, her thighs trembling slightly where she stood.
She reached her arms up, throwing them around his neck, and leaned into his ear, uttering breathlessly, "Make me come."
He nodded, laying her gently onto the bed that centred a few feet away from them. His fingers trailed down her stomach enticingly, where he progressed to pull off her skirt, then her knickers. Abandoning her layers altogether, exposed before him.
There was a moment, and then his two fingertips swept over her hip, found the scar of his initials and she watched, enthralled as his eyes contained as much possessiveness as they had the night she'd received it.
His tongue ran along the inside of his bottom lip while he smirked. His teeth sunk into the fleshy pillow of his mouth, and at the sight Athena throbbed furiously, craving him with desperation.
He kissed the scar longingly, dipped his head between her thighs, assuredly slipping his tongue inside of her, licking and circling and kneading over her clit.
Her back arched, moaning his name aloud among other things, each time earning his tongue to plunge a little bit deeper into her gaping entrance.
And the delicious sound of him tasting her made her shiver with delight.
"Fuck—you're so wet for me, aren't you," he enthused between licks. "Always so fucking wet."
"Yes," was all she could manage in a sigh, scrunching his hair between her fingers, but the strands slipped through as her grip weakened.
"You taste fucking divine," he sighed, lathering his tongue along her throbbing entrance, teasing her clit between his teeth and lips, making her yelp. He continued to groan between licks, "All for me. All mine."
She needed him closer, nearer. Her hands clenched tighter through his hair, tugging desperately at his roots, making him wince and jut his tongue further, jamming it deep in her wetness.
"I—I want to f—Oh fuck—to feel you."
He smirked, and with one last tasteful lick, he pulled his head out from between her legs, slipping off his trousers, before he hung over her, his eyes ravenous.
She brought her hands to his shirt, and began to unbutton it. But before she could go any further, his hand seized both of hers, putting a sudden stop to her actions. It was like a reflex. His grip was strong. Rather painful.
She frowned at him. For the fraction of a second he seemed almost afraid. His hold on her loosened immediately.
"What is it?" she asked in a small voice, bringing her tentative hand to his cold, pale cheek.
"I can't—" he exhaled, the emotionless mask returning. "I don't want you to see—" The mask suddenly vanished and all of the fear was plain. "—what they did to—they—they punished me. You don't want to see."
Oh.
It didn't surprise or shock her. But she needed to see, no matter how distressing it was. They could not be afraid. She brought her other hand to his jaw, bringing his face into hers more earnestly.
"It's ok. You don't have to hide from me. You know that," she smiled weakly, tears prickling the brims of her eyes.
His eyes widened, a glossy film over the whites. He paused on the thought for a moment, just studying her as he came to his decision. He nodded, allowing her hands to return to his shirt.
And when she tore the shirt from his torso, the sight made her stomach recoil. There were white brandished scars along his abdomens, some spraying up his chest region, like lashes. Some fairly new, some aged.
She forced back the distressful tears, knowing it wouldn't make it any easier.
She looked to his eyes, casting her vision to his perfectly crafted porcelain face, brought his lips forwards to hers and she whispered, "You are so beautiful."
She kissed his collarbone, his chest, the places where the scars ended. Felt the rough surface of them behind her fingertips and did not avoid the brutality that would deter.
She bared his weight upon her, feeling alive as he lowered himself inside of her, whimpering and wincing against her throat while he grew accustomed to her.
She gasped at the familiar pain, biting harshly onto the bottom pillow of her lip while he angled himself between her thighs, slowly and carefully grinding into her. Fitting between her perfectly.
"Fuck," he hissed.
The way that he was holding her as he gradually pushed himself further between her legs was so gentle, more gentle than he had ever been with her before. Like he was cautious that if he let himself be too rough, she would simply perish beneath him. Their orgasms filled the void in the room, pushing each other further to the edge.
"You make me feel so—oh fuck—I fucking missed you," he moaned against her skin.
When he hoisted his head from her chest to see her eyes, she gazed up at him, the rest of the world disappearing around them.
"I missed feeling you. Fucking you like this. Seeing your fucking eyes melt for me. Everyday I—I fucking thought about you."
He was the only thing in sight.
"You're beautiful," she moaned in response, sliding her thumb over his bottom lip. His hips jolted further forwards in response, earning a disheveled whimper.
"Oh shit—Greene, don't do that to me."
Her eyes flashed wide, dazed and confused. Panicked.
"What?"
"The way you say that—oh fuck, say it again," he moaned, pleadingly, grinding harder into her. "Say it—again. Please, baby."
Hearing him beg her like that intensified the flames raging in her core. Her hands wrapped around the nape of his neck, bringing his face down to the juncture between her neck and shoulder. His breath was hot against her skin.
She smacked a kiss to his ear, making him shiver, and whispered, "You're fucking beautiful. All mine—you're my—Oh—my pretty boy."
"Oh–oh—Athena–sh—it."
His hips lurched further into hers, his angle finding her g-spot and hitting it perfectly. She arched repeatedly beneath him, bringing herself as close and as near to him as possible.
"I l—love you—oh god sweetheart, you—are so—" his fingers ploughed into her waist, abandoning his gentle touch. "F-fuck."
His entire body trembled erotically as he released into the ecstasy, the heat of his breath on her throat and all combined making her come undone in his hold. And the feel and weight of him on top of her made her feel alive.
She was so fucking alive.
"Oh Draco—" she moaned his name as she came, shuddering beneath him as he held her.
He rolled beside her, cascading his arms around her as he always used to do, so protectively, as if shielding her from all things bad. Her ear was pressed up against his chest, where she could hear the simmering down of his heartbeat, finding the pattering therapeutic.
"Listen to me. I'm never gonna let anyone hurt you again. I mean it. I do. I'll keep you safe now," he assured, squeezing his arms tightly around her small frame in comparison to him. "I will always keep you safe."
He'd made the same promises before, and she'd believed him then without doubting him. Now, despite the fact that those promises had been rather faulty, she was assured that he'd stick to them now. Because this Draco seemed like a person who was capable of taking a life away in order to protect hers.
She nodded, leaving the silence at bay, snuggling further into his chest, breathing in the musk of his mahogany scent like a drug.
"I missed you," she whispered against his warm skin, feeling the extent of the understatement, but implying the amount of it in her tone.
Their hands were entwined, fingers and thumbs twiddling about each other.
She was home.
"I know," he whispered, kissing the top of her head.
"I never want to be without you again," she uttered, feeling the hopeless despair in her words as they escaped her. He didn't reply to that.
She knew he'd have to go back. In fact this entire time, his stay had been on a ticking timer, beating away in her subconscious like an alarm.
No matter the circumstance, there was never enough time. That was the worst part of it.
They'd always run out of time.
-
sixty fourth chapter complete ;)
guyss...