Don't let her go with Potter and Weasley to the Department of Mysteries. Don't let them go. All of them. Do this at all costs. I can't remember why but just don't allow them to go.
Don't make this hard for all involved. Obviously-- you and her.
Draco's fifteenth year is by far the most frustrating.
He's losing memories of his past life. Those memories that were supposed to help him figure out his next course of action. He's starting to forget names and dates. Faces are staying but events are getting blurry as hell. The original mission is to prevent Hermione from ingloriously dying at that pedestrian at London. If he has to follow her everywhere he will, but that's still after they finish at Hogwarts, right? But what's supposed to happen next now?
At his frustration, Draco forgot one very important thing about the rule of time. You were never supposed to know what's going to happen next. Every action is a catalyst to another set of events.
It agitated him to no end as he stalked the corridors sulkily with his prefect pin-- a completely good excuse to give out severe punishments for petty misdemeanor.
And that's where Hermione Granger found him, hanging two bawling first year boys by their ankles on the roof of the Astronomy tower just for being loud in the hallway before breakfast.
She gasped and pulled at his sleeve, "Draco, what are you doing? Put them down this instant." Her voice was hushed as to not cause him embarrassment but he did not mind as he was a world away. Her eyes darted from his blasé face, eyes narrowed in concentration as if performing a simple spell to the first years begging for mercy, scared to death from the prospect of falling from the top of the tower.
In fact, Draco did not hear her voice or the cries of the first year students. A static sound has been ringing in his ears the entire time.
In the end, it was up to Hermione to counter his spell and put the children down. He watched impassively as they bawled at her and then ran down the long flight of stairs with a terrified look his way. As if he would throw a hex their way so they would run faster. For a second, his fingers twitched at his wand to do just that.
"What in Merlin's name was that?" Hermione fumed, her arms crossed at her chest. Her cheeks get ridiculously pink when she's mad at him, the very same hue they become when they are breathing each other's air. It makes his mind go to other things.
"Merlin was a Slytherin, do you--"
"Yes, he was and so was V-Voldemort," she winced at the sound of pure evil coming from her own mouth. "And I don't think Merlin had a phase where all he could do was torment children by hanging them by their ankles all over various parts of the castle. Draco, you're a prefect now--"
"And I am exercising my power," the words tasted like steel on his tongue. It sounded like what his father would say. Yet it sounded good. Power will always be more than appealing.
Hermione's strawberry colored lip curled and her eyes narrowed into slits, "That's the most disgusting thing I've ever heard." She shook her head, her light brown hair catching the light of the early morning sun. Draco used to remember it glow-- a shade almost close to gold-- but it was dull now somehow. "You're using power as an excuse to experiment on children that haven't even learned to properly hold a wand yet. Maybe you should take on someone your own size for a change."
He raised an eyebrow. "Who?"
Hermione was already raising her wand. "If I win, you'll turn over your prefect pin and if you win, then I'll-- I'll turn over mine. You've had enough of this."
It made him laugh. "Not fair. You gave your terms and I'll get to give mine. If I win, I can ask you for something and you'll do it. No questions asked."
He can feel Hermione running every single possibility in her mind. Every single one. He hasn't one thing to ask of her but it's fun to see her wonder about it. She was biting her lower lip raw and her cheeks daintily flushed, maybe she just thought of something naughty. She looked away from Draco and he was glad she did because the mere thought of something naughty with her made him feel a twitch by his abdomen.
"Fine," she huffed, freshly polished wand at the ready-- she just doesn't miss anything. Merlin bless her. "I'll count. Three... Two..."
"One!" Draco sent a hex her way that made her heavy black uniform skirt fly up.
Hermione shrieked. "Obscuro!"
Draco felt himself temporarily blinded by the cloth that tied itself in front of his eyes. But not before he saw the creamy flesh of her thigh leading up to the soft pink fabric with white frills on the sides. It covered enough to be decent but covered less than he was ever able to imagine. His eyes are like camera shutters, memorizing every single detail as she fumbled for his direction to hit him with the vision obscuring spell. But greatest of all the minor details, greater even than her almond colored skin or the pink fabric that covered her was the word written on the fabric. Wednesday.
"Wonderful Wednesday indeed. But a little off the bottom, don't you think, love?" Draco smirked as he managed to removed the conjured blindfold to see an absolutely livid Hermione.
"Conjunctivi--"
"Langlock!"
Hermione was partially muted for a while. All the sounds that was able to manage were each a different grunt variation. "Ran out of things to say, Granger?"
"Not quite! Tallantellagra!" The spell that hit caught Draco by surprise and his legs moved on their own to a soundless song with hurried, erratic beats going faster by the moment.
"Missed dancing with me enough to use my own spell against me?" He scoffed as he was able to lift the spell on himself. "Rictum-"
Hermione managed to deflect the tickling spell before it was even cast. "You're getting quite predictable are you? Flippendo!"
"PROTEGO!"
The spell ricocheted back to Hermione at full force that she hardly had time to dodge. She lost her balance and fell to the floor, her robes slipping through the dusty floor but the look on her eyes was pure fire as she glared at him. And maybe Draco missed this. Maybe he had enough of that tender, caring look that she always glances his way. Maybe he likes the fiery side more.
"INCENDIO!"
"AGUAMENTI!"
It was fire against water. Draco's water was trying it's hardest to extinguish Hermione's fire but it only grew stronger in the threat. The red and blue forces meet with an incredible force in the middle. It fizzled and crackled, small sparks being thrown in the side as steam started to develop making it difficult to see each other. Right now they could be dueling anyone, with the other veiled by the thickening heated steam.
Neither willing to let up. Neither lessening the force. Neither willing to lose.
They were equals. Each made the element their own.
Draco knows just knows that he is going to win this one. He has --literal-- years of experience on him despite her being the most brilliant and talented. Sometimes it doesn't boil down to brilliance, sometimes all it takes is cunning. He slowly let up, he can feel the heat of Hermione's spell within an inch of his wand. "We can keep at this forever, don't you think, Granger?"
"Not forever, Draco. You're just about beat!" She spat at him.
The heat in her words gave him tingles. "Yes, I admit it. You've won. I just hope you won't burn my robes because we're already fourteen-- make that fifteen-- minutes late to Transfiguration. Another minute and McGonagall will not let us in."
Draco felt the easing of her spell, her concentration wavered. He can practically feel half her body already running for the classroom. He waited for her spell to completely let up...
..before he sending back his spell at full blast! Water shoot out from his wand in a great sputter and it whooshed and swooshed at her, hitting her fully at the face and body.
It was supposed to be all in good fun but she was hacking and sputtering now and if it didn't made Draco feel bad, he doesn't know what will. But a deal is a deal and besides he can't let go of his prefect pin, power is just too delicious to hand over.
"Petrificus totalus!"
The spell caught her about to cover her mouth, lips a tinge of blue from the cold, pupils dilated in anger and shock at his cunning. The water must have flooded her lungs too. But he won't keep the spell on too long. His slender fingers found their way to her crimson and gold necktie, the symbol of her house. It was dripping wet, some of her curls has stuck to it. He had to slowly, bit by bit remove every single thing that clung to that tie as he unraveled it from her fragile neck. She smells like the last piece of sweet that his mother never allowed him to eat. Saying that it's dirty or he already had enough or it will ruin his perfect, white teeth. That candy that's so much sweeter than the others because of how forbidden it is. So close but so unattainable. "Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart. Their daring, nerve and chivalry set Gryffindors apart, isn't that right, Granger?"
But she was unable to answer she was still frozen by the spell, colder from the water but still unable to shiver. You're hurting her again, you piece of dirt-- you piece of rotting flesh stuck between a troll's gangrenous gums.
He held out her necktie to her in taunting. The top two buttons of her shirt had been opened and they revealed her collarbones. They were so dainty looking that it made his heartache. Yet it was titillating, he can feel the rush of blood and the tingles on his lower abdomen as he stared at her wet form, her uniform has stuck to her newly formed curves, none of the bagginess now, she's filling it up. He was seeing parts of her that she will not permit him to see otherwise-- she would want to hide from him now or slap him twice on each cheek, it is against her will but it is so delicious. So this is what power entails.
But the aftertaste was bitter. So bitter that he can feel himself choking on it.
"Not all of us have to use our power for good, some of us just want to use it for good."
Hermione Granger with all her wit will get what he just said. "You used to be fun, Granger, used to be. See you but don't see me." He forced out a laugh as he walked down the stairs, only letting up the spell when he was halfway. He expected her to scream and lunge after him but there was no sound except for quiet sobs.
It was infinitely worse.
Draco knows what he has to do to make it easier for them all. The previous year... he's not sorry and he didn't want to take it back but it was wrong and uncalculated. He just has to make her not like him until Voldemort's death. Until the return of order. Until it is safe. Until he can really make her safe. Until then he has to play the part of the boy who doesn't want anything to do with Hermione Granger.
It won't be hard, won't it? He lived his whole other life doing just that, how hard can it possibly be?
Abysmally. He had a taste of her, you see. It was hard to snap out of it. She was so tangible in his fingertips. So real. So much better than the figment of imagination that he wrote letters to.
And try as he might be to be his usual, impassive, calculating Slytherin self that he bragged about, with all the hardness and impenetrability of a wall of ice, he couldn't. He's starting to crack. The fissures are only getting deeper with every smile. Every touch. Every stolen kiss. Every lingering moment.
It won't be long now.
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They never spoke again.
Under the rule of the new sadistic bitch of a Headmistress there was no space for useless longing anyway. Everyone was under strict observation. His parents wanted him to make a good impression, apparently, there is future merit in being associated with Dolores toad face Umbridge. Never could he eat a chocolate frog without seeing her face on its head. Sodding sod.
Yet, it doesn't mean that he never saw Hermione again.
He was true to his words, 'See you but don't see me'. She didn't so he did. He was her shadow.
She had been working too hard that she has once again exhausted herself half to death. Draco knows it because he is conveniently doing his homework at the library three tables and two book aisles away from her, a distance that he deemed reasonable enough. Yet still unreasonable because he could do his homework in the common room with the other Slytherins yet he chose to stay here with the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws.
Her toffee colored curls have spilled in the subpar mahogany table, one arm on hanging on her side and one arm draped on the space in front of her. Her cheek was on the center of the book, pink lips parted. How long is she going to stay knocked out? She'll miss dinner! How absolutely daft! She might as well have skipped lunch the way she eyefucked the Arithmency textbook. Ridiculous.
Maybe just a nudge. She'll wake up and he'll be gone the moment she stirs.
He looked down at the mess of hair on the table, each strand duller than the first, frizzier and frizzier. Like a sodding lion's mane. Like a dandelion. Salazar, how he missed running his fingers over them. Whispering her name as he smelled her hair. Stealing kisses. Glances. Touches.
One thing was amiss. A detail that distance never showed him. The pages of the book was blotchy. She had been crying.
"Her--"
"Don't even think about it you albino lizard," Draco whipped behind him and saw Ron git champion Weasley and Harry fuckall Potter. Both their wands drawn and directed at him. Weasley was red in the face with anger, the red was spreading to his neck and his wand hand was shaking. The look was familiar, nothing new even, that was how he had been looking at Draco the moment Harry and him had to escort a dripping wet, freezing Hermione to their common room. She didn't cry then but her expression was blank. From then on Weasley rarely left her alone. Draco hated him for it.
He wanted to kill Ronald Bilius Weasley.
"Go now, Draco. While we're still reasonable," Potter interjected. He was glaring at him but his voice was even. It is without a doubt that he wants to protect Hermione but not in the same way as the Weasel.
They are both ready to get detention for her. Get weeks worth of punishment if it must come to it just to get an even hex at him for embarrassing her like that. And what will he do for her? Nothing. She was their girl, not his.
He wished that it was not so but wishes are for snot faced children.
"Not even fucking worth it," Draco spat. He looked down at Hermione's peaceful looking face, she was oblivious to the power struggle going on beside her. He grabbed the book she was sleeping in one quick motion. She awoke with a gasp, almost falling from her chair. Draco even made a show of stepping aside to allow her to fall as her chair almost toppled. "Don't hog the books all to yourself, you loser egghead."
"Bastard!" Ron yelled. "STUPEFY!" Draco was about to pull on his wand but the spell was already pummeling towards him. It sent him flying out the library.
The force knocked the wind out of him, like a troll punched him in the abdomen and threw him against the library door. When he opened his eyes, he was sprawled in the cold, stone floor of the hallway. He hit a Hufflepuff, he pushed said student down so he could regain his balance. Other students have started to crowd and cause commotion. He straightened his robes in an attempt to look orderly.
"Hem, hem!" An impish coughing sound came from the back of the crowd. Draco felt himself inwardly groan. "Everyone to your classrooms. Clear the way."
Everyone walked with collective sighs and heavy feet, no one wants to obey the toad faced new headmistress but rebelling is more trouble than what it's worth.
"What happened?" Her bulgy brown eyes stared at him.
"The Weasel," he scoffed, still patting off imaginary dirt from his robes.
"Another strike then," she smiled menacingly, "And Harry Potter?"
Draco smirked, "You're never wrong, Headmistress."
Dolores Umbridge giggled, "And the bushy haired, know-it-all, muggleborn?"
Draco felt himself capsize. He just jumped into a sinking ship. The cat embroidered in her hideous pink cardigan got his tongue.
Umbridge was playing with the end of her wand, "Funny things, muggleborns are. You don't exactly know where they got their magic. It can't be from nothing, is it? Not conjured either. It can only be one thing... They stole it. Stole it from a more deserving wizard or witch, they did. Lying thieves!" She was gritting her jaw, pink lipstick staining her small, uneven teeth. She forced herself to calm down. "If there's one thing that I can't stand, it's thievery. I absolutely loathe it. So, Mister Malfoy, I will rid this school of it. Would you like to help me?"
So the Inquisitorial Squad was formed.
Draco Lucius Malfoy had been the first member.
He wanted to protect her and it's the only way. His ends will always justify the means.
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Hi, fam. Hello fam that got this story to #336 in fanfiction last 1/7/2016! That's frigging awesome! Happy July to you too, guys!
Some things that might need clearing up about the format
Abcd - Draco's thoughts
Abcd - Written word on his journal, one of the letters
Abcd - The locket is talking to him
Abcd - Unbiased, omniscient narration
I hope no one gets confused now. ^__^""
Song up top is 'Unsteady' by X Ambassadors. Tbh I didn't really know what song to put in this chapter and then I heard this song and I'm just like 'wow this is lit, this is them'. So there, I even thought of putting this chap as 'yours in precariousness' but it's a faqing mouthful so nah b. We've done SAT and it has not been lit.
Thank you for the 2K+ stars! My heart is singing!
Oh and if y'all are here because of the ads in the promote your story section and saw my ad and thought that I'm lying well here. Hahaha! Tbh though that was the first scene that I thought of in this book and I just sort of built around that.