Lost for Words
"I care about you."
A profound silence filled the room, so profound that it was almost suffocating. The air thickened as tension increased, breathing became difficult as confusion and embarrassment threatened to devour their bodies.
Hermione choked, letting out a dry cough, body trembling violently as she put a hand to her mouth in an effort to stop the sounds. Unfortunately, it was to no avail.
Merely two seconds after Draco's statement, Hermione Granger was clutching her ribs, heaving loudly as laughter shook her body. Tears filled her eyes, pouring down her cheeks as she fell back against the door, unable to believe a word the blond had said.
This must have been some sick joke…
"Oh…Oh Gods…Malfoy…that is hilarious…that's definitely a keeper," she guffawed, almost on her knees as her body near-collapsed from the laughter.
Wiping furiously at her tears of mirth, she continued to sob out her sounds of joy, finding the situation more and more comical by the second.
It was absolutely impossible for Draco Malfoy to give a damn about her; she was simply not the type of person he cared about. So, his retort must have been sarcastic and said with the intent to shock rather than create a humourous atmosphere.
At least, that is what she believed…
Completely leaning against the door now, panting heavily, she choked out; "Goodness, Malfoy…where in the world did you come up with something so…?" Her words faltered as her eyes met his.
The silence returned with a vengeance, battering their bodies as her heart thundered in her chest. This time, there was no laughter in her eyes, her body did not shake from joy, and the tears that threatened to spill were not ones of happiness.
His face was a blank mask of cold steel, lips tight, skin drawn; an emotionless façade against the warring emotions within him. It would have been perfect if it weren't for his eyes.
She saw everything in his eyes.
Pain, gut-wrenching pain, mixed with indignation and anger, made his eyes darken to hard steel.
She felt every ounce of breathe leave her body in a rush as guilt riddled her mind.
What had she done…?
"Malfoy…you…you were serious, weren't you?" she whispered, terrified of the answer.
The guilt, she could live with, but it was the fear that she had just destroyed any chance she had ever had with him…all because of one horrible mistake.
He slowly inclined his head, keeping the mask intact, fighting to not give any inkling of his emotions away to her. He couldn't live with himself if he let her see…let her know how he felt. Especially after she had just made her feelings quite clear.
"Oh Gods," she murmured, standing straight, eyes widening with shock. "Oh dear Gods," she repeated, face paling as she took an involuntary step forward, hand stretched out as though prepared to touch and comfort. "Malfoy…I…I'm…"
"Don't."
The words were short, curt, but void of any snappish, crude sarcasm that identified Draco Malfoy as unique. It scared her, stomach knotting painfully as she slowly realized absolute consequences of her actions.
"Don't even bother," he said, voice soft in the silence of the room, the wind howling in the distance.
She took a second step forward, unaware of her unconscious intent, unaware that her actions slowly brought her closer to him. She hadn't even considered just what she intended to do once she reached him; all she knew was that she wanted to cup his cheek and comfort him.
"No," she replied softly. "I…it was wrong of me…Oh Gods, I'm so…"
"It's not what you think," he snapped, the lie evident in his eyes, in the protective stance he took.
"What…what do you mean?" She lowered her hand, watching him in astonishment and perplexity.
The tension almost eased in the room, swiftly replaced with awkwardness as his cheeks mottled red, a sharp contrast to his pale golden hair. He shoved his hands into his pockets, intending to appear more relaxed and at ease than he actually felt.
"It…I only care because you're…you're an acquaintance. A friend…and it's not fun when friends get hurt," he admitted quietly as his conscience screamed at him for the blatant lie.
A faint colour returned to her cheeks as she was sucked into the lie, believing every spoken word now that his eyes no longer told a different story. "Oh…Oh! Yes…yes, I completely understand. I care a lot about Ron and Harry, even Ron's family, but I'm not in a special relationship with any of them," she half-stammered, trying to get the right foothold on the conversation.
Draco slowly nodded, turning his head to the side, refusing to let her look him directly in the eye. He couldn't let her see the naked pain, the raw agony that was slowly eating away at him.
She had laughed at him…
He had admitted, while not in the best of fashions, that he cared about her, and she had the gall to laugh at him. It was the most excruciating pain he had ever experienced.
"It's platonic," he said, acting more flustered than hurt to continue his façade. "It's…it's a friend-care."
She nodded, fumbling to find something to do with her hands as guilt continued to shake her. "Ye…yeah, I understand," she replied quietly. "A…a feeling you get for a friend. I mean…I know we're not best of friends, but, well, after all this time together, I suppose we could be friends."
At one point in time, he would be curious as to why that one damn word made his heart bleed. Now, after she laughed in his face and called him her friend, he understood exactly why his heart was being shredded into pieces.
He had come to the conclusion, only an hour earlier, that he cared deeply for Hermione Granger, as more than a friend. There was something about her, something about the way she smiled, the way she walked, and the way she spoke that screamed at him. It made him feel so unbelievably cherished every time she grinned in his direction. His heart fluttered anxiously every time he thought of her smiling, glowing face. His stomach wrenched pleasantly every second he remembered the way she laughed when they had played in the snow.
There was something about Hermione Granger, all right, and he liked it. He liked it a lot.
He cared about her; he had realized. He cared deeply about her and did not want to let anything destroy her smiling face. He wanted to protect her from the world's harm, to hold her in his arms and keep her safe for the rest of eternity. He wanted to go back in time and save her from his Aunt's torture, to stand up sooner against his family and enemies and prevent Hermione's agony.
He wanted to love and cherish her, to caress her cheek without worry, to laugh with her without growing flustered, and he wanted to tell her that he cared without negative feedback or consequences.
She had laughed at him.
He would have fallen to his knees at that point; the pain was so powerful. He wanted to scream and tear the room to shreds, to yell at him and let he know just how he felt about her.
He wanted to kiss her thoroughly until she was sobbing with need.
Then he would see who was laughing.
"Yeah," he mumbled, "friends." At least it was a step closer. "I mean…friends do care about each other and worry and…" He suddenly became flustered, the red darkening on his cheeks as he completely turned away. He didn't know why, but he felt so embarrassed, ready and willing as he suddenly was to proclaim his feelings for her.
Hell…he didn't even completely understand what he felt for her. All he knew was that he had been terrified at the idea of her outside in the raging storm. He couldn't bear the thought of her lying injured somewhere…
"So…did…did you see McGonagall?" He had to get rid of this tension, to distract her from his embarrassing outburst. She obviously didn't return the feelings, which made the situation all the more awkward.
"Yes," she replied, bending down to remove one boot, finding every movement to be sluggish, as though she were physically moving through layer upon layer of tension. "She wasn't too pleased with me, docked about fifteen points, but was happy that I was safe. She also wants us to patrol the Houses and do a head count in about an hour."
"But she already did one," replied Draco, trying to feign indifference and relaxation at this moment of sheer mental torture.
"So I heard," Hermione said, removing the second boot with much difficulty. "However, she said that she had given everyone a time limit to be in their rooms by. Doing the head count will make sure everyone is where they're supposed to be. She gave me the student lists and passwords."
Draco nodded, no longer listening as he watched her in the corner of his eye. How could she react so calmly after what he had said? How could she act like nothing had happened? It hurt…it hurt more than he wanted to believe…the image of her laughing in his face forever imprinted within his mind.
He didn't know what he wanted to do more at the moment, smack her or kiss her.
"Do…do you want some hot chocolate?" she asked, needing to say something to break the thick silence. "I was going to…you know…make some. It was awfully cold out there…I mean, the heating charm barely lasted the walk back…"
"No thanks."
He sounded so cold. It pained her heart listening to him speak in that tone, as though every emotion had been sucked from his soul, replacing his mind and body with an empty shell.
Needing to move, to get away from him and think, she made her way over to the kitchen and began taking out the various utensils and ingredients for hot chocolate. The noises, the movements, distracted her momentarily and gave her the time she needed to think.
She saw through him…saw through the lie. His eyes told her everything.
He cared about her, but it wasn't as a friend. She saw his body clench as she said the word, saw the way his eyes darkened with agony as the one, fateful word was spoken.
He wanted something more…something she wasn't sure if she was ready to give just yet.
She'd hurt him, she realized as the water began to heat up. Regret tore through her and she found herself blinking back tears as her heart began to break.
He had confessed to her…and she had laughed at him.
'Hermione Granger, you are one horrible, cruel bitch,'she cursed.
Her hands shook as she spooned out the hot chocolate mix, carefully adding just the right amount of milk to her mug as the water began to steam.
She was a horrible person. She had laughed at him because he had said he'd cared about her. Gods…what had she done?
"D…Draco," she choked out, saying his first name for the first time. She felt him turn his gaze on her, unaware that it was one of shock and confusion. "I…I'm sorry."
She heard him move, felt his heat on her back, and did not resist as he reached out and touched her shoulder, pulling her around to face him. But she did not look at him.
"For what?"
She gaped up at him wordlessly, unable to fathom how he could ask such an asinine question at this point in time. "W…What? Don't tell me you're so thick that you barely registered what I did earlier?"
A sad smile broke his mask, grey eyes shimmering softly in the light. "I know what you did," he murmured as his face slowly hardened. "I saw you…I watched you…and all you can do is say that you're sorry?"
She watched as his face contorted, hardening to stone as all sorrow faded into pain and fury. She had hurt him and he wouldn't take it lying down.
"You're sorry? You're sorry for laughing in my face? Sorry for making a joke out of something that serious? You're sorry?" he spat, eyes darkening with rage. "I tell you that I care, that I was actually worried about you, and you fucking laugh at me. And you think sorry with fix it?"
"I…" She swallowed her fear, knowing that the only way to stand up to him, to make him feel better, was by returning his fury with her own. "What do you want me to say? What do you expect me to do? You've always given me the bloody cold shoulder. You act like we're nothing but acquaintances, people forced to know each other because we're forced to live together. You never once showed any emotion towards me save for spite and hate. Obviously it'll be a shock if you tell me you 'care.'"
"You made a joke out of my feelings," he snapped, gripping her shoulder tightly. "You laughed in my face. You told me that is was a bleedin' keeper!"
"What do you expect from me?" she shouted, stabbing him with her finger. "Obviously I thought it was a joke. Hell, even in the last few days, I thought the only reason you laughed around me was because of something I said. Not because I'm funny. I thought you smiled because of what we were doing, not because you were doing it with me!"
"What? So I can't be happy just being with you? I can't enjoy our conversations? Must I only show contempt for you?"
The kettle began to shriek, a sound that was barely registered by them.
"It would've been nice if you showed that you cared more often!"
"Why? Why should I bother if all you're going to do is laugh in my face?"
"What about the kiss, then?" she yelled, going into forbidden territory, determined to make a fool of the man. "Were you being honest when you said it was the foulest kiss you had ever experienced?"
"You bloody well know it wasn't!" he shouted, forgetting all of the rules, forgetting about everything but the feisty woman in front of him pulling his every nerve. "You want the truth? You keep bugging me for it. I liked it. I liked the fucking kiss. I liked the way you felt under me, the way you kissed me back, how you just collapsed in my arms and let me kiss you. I fucking loved it."
She swallowed thickly as all anger faded from her body. Embarrassment coloured her cheeks red and she suddenly wanted to fidget on the spot. "How do I know you're telling the truth now?" she whispered, afraid of the response.
"Fuck you, Granger," he snapped, pushing her away to brood in front of the fireplace. "You don't believe me when I lie, you don't believe when I tell the fucking truth. A Death Eater through and through, eh? Can't trust me at all because of what my father did. You're the same as every other fucking person here. Can't spare a single second to trust my word."
She knew that he was making up excuses, using them to start up another argument altogether, to avoid returning to discussing the kiss. She knew that his cheeks weren't just red from the anger; she had felt the way his body unconsciously trembled against hers as he touched her. Saw the way his eyes stormed with lust as he remembered the kiss.
Ignoring the screaming kettle, she closed her eyes, fighting for some semblance of sanity before she did what she was about to do. Gathering up as much courage as she could, pushing back all negativity, she swallowed thickly and looked over to him.
He was so beautiful, even enraged. A dark angel, a beautiful devil, a gorgeous demon sent to torture her with sensuality and need. He was exactly what she needed…the one thing she had been searching for since she could remember…
Clenching her shaking hands into fists, she took a deep breath and made her way over to the man by the fire.
Trembling, she moved to face him, reaching up to cup his cheeks.
Surprise filled his eyes as he looked down at her and she gnawed on her lip.
There was no turning back now…
"Thank you for caring," she murmured, lowering his head down to press her lips against his.
He couldn't move, couldn't breathe as he felt her smooth lips pressed against his. He had dreamt about this, imagined this happening again, but he had never thought that she would ever return the feelings. He froze, heart hammering against his ribs, unable to do anything, only for a second before the chain of control snapped and the shock wore off.
He growled against her mouth, wrapping his arms tightly around her form, holding her close to him as he claimed her mouth in a searing kiss. She relinquished the power to him, yielding against him as a small moan escaped her throat.
He bruised her lips, tongue seeking entrance to her moist cavern. Their bodies were being consumed with fire, bathed in flames of desire as their lips remained connected. Their hearts pounded, blood boiled and roared, and the world around them became nonexistent as electrical pulses of pleasure raced through their bodies, electrifying every nerve ending, sending their entire bodies into overdrive.
The air thickened with arousal and she mewled softly against his mouth when he took her lower lip and sucked on it. Her arms twined around his neck, pulling him closer, needing him to be as close to her as possible.
His tongue darted into her mouth, probing every crevice, finding every little nook, before engaging hers in a timeless, furious dance. A hand found her hair, delving in it as he tugged her head further back, plundering her mouth with every ounce of passion he had.
This was what she wanted, she realized, twining her tongue around his. This was exactly what she wanted; passion, lust, and the overwhelming sensation that there was something else making this all the better. Something they shared that she had never shared with any other man.
Something told her, screamed at her, that this kiss, it was not just a kiss of physical lust. It was a kiss with something more.
And she wanted something more…
Scree! Scree! Screeeeeeeeeeeeee!
They continued to kiss, his hands trailing down her spine, digging into her hips to bring her flush against him. His lips trailed down her jaw, finding her throat and tugged on the sensitive flesh. Her head fell back with a moan, fingers delving into his hair to press his lips harder against her neck.
Screeeeeeeeeeeeee!
"What the fuck is that?" he growled against her skin, finding a tender spot where her throat met her collar bone.
"Kettle," she gasped, tightening her grip on his hair as he bit down on the sweet flesh. "Ignore it."
His hands just brushed the top of her buttocks, pressing her even closer, wanting her to be right against him, for there to be no space between there bodies as he kissed her throat.
"Kiss me," she murmured, yanking his mouth to hers, kissing him like a woman starved. She bit down on his lip, bruising his mouth as her tongue battled passionately against his.
Screeeeeeeeeeeeee!
"Fuck," he groaned against her mouth, ready to drown in the sweet taste of her lips. She tasted like ambrosia, a combination of Butterbeer and a flavour that was uniquely Hermione.
He reached down, grasping her buttocks and lifted her, pressing her against him, wrapping her legs around his waist as he continued to savagely kiss her.
"Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger…Oh my!"
They suddenly broke apart, gasping for air, eyes widening as they turned to see Headmistress McGonagall standing in the doorway of their Tower, an ear-piercing shrieking sound echoing in the background.
Draco's face flamed with red just as Hermione mouthed wordlessly at the astounded woman. Suddenly, Draco released Hermione, forgetting that she was wrapped around him.
She hit the ground with a loud thud, narrowly missing the coffee table and stone hearth. Draco lunged forward, heaving her to her feet, muttering various apologies as McGonagall waved her wand, turning off both the kettle and the unknown shrieking sound.
'Well…at least they're promoting interhouse unity,' she thought, unsure whether she found the phrase comical or grim.
"While I feel I must reprimand you for your actions," she began before Hermione had even gotten to her feet, punching Draco in the side every two seconds or so, "there is something much more important to discuss instead of your decision to ignore the alarm."
Rubbing her back, she glared one last time at Draco before facing her Professor and mentor, Hermione replied, "Sorry, Professor…won't happen again. I…so…what alarm?"
"Honestly, Miss Granger, I would have assumed that at least had knowledge of it," tsked the Professor. "It was installed during your seventh year, a way of communicating to all Heads and Professors when there is an intruder or an emergency. It is only found within the Heads' Tower, Headmaster's Office, and the Professors' chambers," she quickly explained, making it quite obvious that she wanted to avoid small talk as much as possible.
"Then what's the emergency?" asked Draco, wanting to go back to snogging Hermione as fast as possible. His pants felt tight and uncomfortable as his erection pressed sharply into his jeans.
"It seems that Mr. Dennis Creevey has gone missing. Mr. Finnegan and Mr. Thomas reported him missing to me just moments ago, and it appears that he is nowhere to be found in the school."
"Have you searched everywhere?" Hermione asked, forgetting about her aching back and the throbbing between her thighs. If Dennis had gone out into the storm…
McGonagall produced an all too familiar piece of parchment. Draco knitted his brows in confusion, having never seen it before, but Hermione had seen it many times.
"The Marauder's Map! How…how did you get it?" she asked, eyes wide with fear. "I…well…you see…I'm sure Harry can explain…"
"Mr. Potter has kindly leant it to me for the winter vacation, just in case of an emergency. He offered it to me at the beginning of year, for emergencies only, and thought that I might need it for the holidays. Unfortunately, I had to swear that I would return it to him once the vacation was over." Shaking her shoulders and adjusting her cloak, she cleared her throat. She was obviously not content with the idea of returning such a valuable piece of parchment to a boy that would definitely use it for mischief. "And, it would seem that we are experiencing an emergency; Mr. Creevey is nowhere to be seen on the map."
Hermione rushed forward, taking the map from McGonagall's outstretched hand after asking for it, poring over the little dots. Everybody, it seemed, were in their Houses. Several teachers, including Sprout, Flitwick, and Hagrid, were moving around the school, obviously searching for the lost student.
She thought over every little hideaway, every little passage that led from the school that was not on the map. She thought of every place that Dennis might be.
"Has anyone checked the Room of Requirement?" she asked, not looking up from the parchment.
"Yes. There was no sign of him," the Headmistress said solemnly. Under normal circumstances, she would be irked of the idea that a student questioned the thoroughness of a teacher. However, this was Hermione Granger, a valuable player in the destruction of Lord Voldemort, and McGonagall had more respect for her than any other witch she had met.
Sighing heavily, Hermione felt Draco's heat as he moved over to her, looking over the map in awe. She breathed in deeply, taking in his scent, latching onto it as a foothold for strength and desire. She wanted to turn around and kiss him senseless.
If only Headmistress McGonagall weren't standing in front of them…
Swallowing her arousal, she focused on the task at hand.
"I can't think of any unlisted passage that he might have gotten to," she said after a moment's silence. "Many were already caved in before the war and I think a number more were destroyed afterwards. I don't think he knows about any others; I believe that he may no longer be in the school."
"What about an Invisibility Cloak?" Draco asked.
"Not possible; Harry always showed up on the map, even under his Invisibility Cloak."
"Are you sure Potter's wasn't defective?"
Hermione bit back a sarcastic remark; nobody aside from her, Ron, and Harry, knew that his cloak was one of the Hallows. It was to remain a secret; it was understood that people would kill to have their hands on one of them.
"Positive," she sighed, lifting her head to gaze at McGonagall. "Has anyone spoken with Dean or Seamus about what Dennis said before he disappeared? It might help give us an idea of where he might go…"
"It's a very good idea, Miss Granger," the woman nodded. "Just in case, you should bring your coats and wands; we might have to go out into the storm."