The past 2 weeks have been painful.
I hate myself for being so cold towards Hermione, but I can't seem to stop.
I have to keep reminding myself of who I am, and who she is.
I have to think about what Father would say.
I have to keep my distance, or I'll end up hurting her even more.
It's not like I'll be here for much longer anyways.
The thought almost makes me sad, because I know Hermione truly cares about me, and I know she'll be sad to see me go.
I don't understand why.
Or maybe I'm deluding myself, and she simply pities me, and is secretly waiting for the moment when she doesn't have to deal with me anymore.
So why do I stay?
Why can I not bring myself to get the knife back out and follow through this time?
It's her.
It's because of Hermione.
No one can ever know, but I care for her.
I'm not sure when or how it happened, but I know for a fact I can't leave her behind. I can't stand not knowing if she is ok, whether she has eaten or not.
The past 14 days have been almost unbearable. I feel myself choking back sobs regularly, every time I have to walk past her and pretend that I don't desperately want to wrap her in my arms and keep her safe.
I don't know how much longer I can keep this up.
I'm being stupid.
I know I am.
I just don't know what else to do.
I knock on the bedroom door, not giving myself enough time to hesitate before I walk in anyway.
Hermione is sleeping.
I stop and watch her for a moment.
The duvet covers her bottom half, but I see her curled up under the covers, her small form rounded like a little mouse. She is wearing a red tank top, and I see the small bulge around her abdomen section.
How did I not notice it before today?
I feel like shit. I should be better for her.
A piece of paper rests on the bedside table, and I draw closer to it, careful to be quiet as not to wake her.
I gasp softly when I see it.
It's a blurry black and white image, and I have to squint in the darkened room to make out any distinct features.
It's not awfully clear, but I know it's from an ultrasound, which by the looks of it, it dated 2 weeks ago.
She didn't tell me.
I am angry for a moment, before I consider why she didn't mention anything.
Well it's obvious.
I haven't exactly been the most supportive partner.
Because whether I like it or not, I'm stuck in this experience with her.
I should at least do my part.
I tell myself that's the only reason why I sit on the side of the bed and wait for Hermione to wake up.
Not because I like looking at her or anything.
I reach a hand out to stroke her hair, but think better of it, not wanting to be creepy.
Eventually, she starts to stir, and winces slightly as she puts weight on her bump.
"Mmm, good morning," she says, rolling over.
It takes her a moment to register my presence.
But when she does, her eyes go wide and she scoots away slightly.
"What are you doing?" she asks, and she is so close to me that I can feel her breath on my hand.
I swallow. "Morning."
She smiles, and I feel an ache in my tummy.
I don't deserve her smiles.
But just for now, it's nice to pretend I do.
"What are you doing here?" she asks sleepily, covering her yawn with a dainty hand.
I figure saying "watching you sleep" probably isn't the best response, so I show her the photograph instead.
Her eyes widen in recognition.
"You didn't show up," she says quietly, and it breaks my heart to hear the hurt in her voice.
"I didn't know," I say softly, not having enough energy to retaliate.
Her eyes focus on mine, and I stop breathing for a minute.
She is so... beautiful.
I instantly regret the thought, and I look away, unable to bear the shame of having such feelings.
Her blood isn't even pure.
And then I feel even worse, guilt and despair gripping me intensely. I push it down for now, instead choosing to shift slightly away from her.
She sighs. "Draco, why have we overcomplicated things?" she asks, rolling onto her back and looking up at the ceiling.
I try not to look at things I shouldn't, so I keep my gaze firmly fixed on the wall. "I don't know," I say quietly, and she sighs again.
"I don't want to keep ignoring each other. We're a team Draco, we have to start acting like one." I feel like a child being scolded for my wrongdoing, not undeservedly in fact, but discerning all the same.
I nod slowly. "Does this mean I can come to the next ultrasound?"
I don't have to look at her to know she smiles.
"There's nothing I'd like more."
Tuesday comes quickly, and I fiddle with my robe as I wait for Hermione to finish in the bathroom.
I glance at my watch. Five minutes past two. Which means we have 5 minutes to get to the hospital wing.
Which means Hermione might need to hurry up.
"What is she even doing in there?" I grumble quietly.
I check my watch again. We have four minutes. Just as I raise my hand to knock on the door, it opens, and she walks out, smelling of lavender and perfumes and all things sweet and good.
I breathe it in, offering her a small smile. "Shall we go?"
She nods, and we walk in a companionable silence.
"So uh, nice weather outside," I say weakly, trying to start a conversation.
"It's raining," she points out, but she is smiling as she does so.
"Ah, so it is," I reply, and we fall back into silence.
She doesn't want to talk to me.
I don't blame her.
"Mr Malfoy," I hear, and I turn my head slightly.
Headmistress McGonagall beckons to me, and I step closer.
"I've just received an owl that your father will be paying you a visit in about a week's time."
My heart stops.
I've just managed to get him out of my head.
He knows, he always knows.
But I'm not scared of him.
Not anymore.
McGonagall must see the emotions flit across my face, because she continues.
"We have only allowed it as, due to the project, you cannot travel home for the Christmas holidays this year." She smiles sympathetically.
I don't want her sympathy.
I nod curtly, then turn back to Hermione and stalk towards the hospital wing.
"Draco?" Hermione asks, catching up to me. "Are you ok?"
"I'm fine," I snap, but instantly regret it as her face falls.
"Right then," she says, clearly miffed by my attitude.
We walk in silence the rest of the way.
Madame Pomfrey instructs Hermione to lie down and lift her top up, and I try not to look at the skin she exposes by doing so.
I swallow, suddenly taking a great interest in the window panelling. Nice... materials and stuff.
And then Hermione gasps, and I look up, staring at the black and white image on the screen.
Her eyes light up as she looks at it, and she looks so desperate, so passionate, that I take her hand and squeeze it tightly.
And all too soon, the image is gone, and Madame Pomfrey has gone to pick up an anti-sickness potion for Hermione.
She sits back up, smiling blindingly at me. "Did you see? Isn't she gorgeous?" she says excitedly, her eyes blazing with passion, and perhaps a hint of something more.
I am still gripping her hand, and suddenly that isn't enough contact, and I have to have more of her.
Her big brown eyes bore into mine, almost as if they can see into my very soul.
I lean down, and she tilts her head up, her lips parted.
I know what I'm doing is wrong, that Madame Pomfrey could return at any second. that we can't do this, that we shouldn't because of a million different reasons, but they don't matter.
All that matters is her lips on mine, and her hand gripping my hair, her leg wrapped around my waist.
And the world melts away, and I forget who I am and what I've done and the awful things I've said to her.
It doesn't matter anymore.
A/N: Elloooo How's we all doings? I can never seem to get the right number of words in a chapter, its either too little or too much😂
Bit of a longer chapter today, I hope you enjoyed it!
Lots of love
Saf xx