Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Songs of Regret	By : RavieSnake Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 76454 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 17
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters from it. I also hold no rights to any of the songs mentioned. I make no money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
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Draco rubbed his temples gingerly. They didn’t exactly hurt but they felt tender. He and Hermione had been placing their wands to them for the past eight hours, carefully extracting memory after memory. How on earth did Dumbledore expect them to continue this for an entire week? He was absolutely exhausted.

The only breaks they had taken were trips to the loo and stopping to eat a light lunch of sandwiches and cheese. Draco leaned back in his chair in the Headmaster’s office and watched as Hermione extracted her last memory for the day.

A silvery blue thread clung to the tip of her wand as she pulled it slowly away from the side of her head and she placed it expertly in a tiny glass vial. She set down her wand, corked the vial, and then picked-up a quill and wrote the content of the memory on the tiny label on the side. She handed the vial with its swirling contents to Dumbledore who then placed it delicately among the others he’d already stored in a cabinet behind his desk.

Hermione leaned back in her own chair and swiveled her head back and forth to stretch and crack her sore neck. She was completely worn-out. She had spent most of her adult life trying to forget the traumatic events from the war, and having to spend an entire day remembering and sharing them was grueling both physically and emotionally. She was just glad she’d made it through so far without a flashback.

Dumbledore closed the glass door to the cabinet and then warded it with a few flicks of his wand. He turned to face Draco and Hermione with a small smile. “I must commend you both for the excellent work you have done today. I imagine it was both difficult and unpleasant to recall these memories, but you did so efficiently and without complaint.”

Hermione and Draco merely returned tired eyes and lethargic half smiles to him. The old professor sighed and looked at them sympathetically. “You made much more progress than I had first anticipated. I believe I have more than enough to review for tomorrow, so I think it best for you both to get some rest and we will commence again the day after,” he said as he walked out from around his desk. He strode to the door of his office and motioned for Draco and Hermione to follow him.

Draco sat-up, stretched his back with a crack and stood. He held out his hand to Hermione who stretched her own back and then grabbed his hand to hoist herself up as well. Dumbledore gestured for them to go ahead of him out of the office door and down the spiral staircase that led to the main hall.

When they reached the hall, Dumbledore turned and began to walk in the direction of the extra staff quarters and Draco and Hermione followed him silently. Dumbledore spoke as they made their way down the last corridor that led to what would be their room for the week.

“Now,” he said, “until Professor Snape returns, I must insist that the two of you not leave the confines of your room without me. In addition to a bedroom, there will also be a sitting area and full bathroom. You will also be provided with toiletries and a small selection of fresh clothing and robes that you may use. If you need anything to eat or drink you may call on one of the elves to bring it for you. You should have no need to leave.”

They stopped in front of a large tapestry that depicted a man in full armor being knighted by a queen in a flowing silver gown. Dumbledore held his hand up to it and said, “Solatium animae.” The tapestry pulled magically to the side to reveal a heavy oak door.

“This is the room that Severus relayed to me that he had the elves prepare for you,” he said as he pushed open the door and stepped aside to allow Draco and Hermione to enter through it. “It’s an interesting choice to be sure. It hasn’t been occupied in some years,” he said as he came in behind them.

The dark room flooded with light as several torches and candles flared to life along the walls as they entered. The room was large and the stone walls were bare but for the torches and another tapestry emblazoned with the Hogwarts crest that hung over a large fireplace directly ahead of them. In front of the fireplace stood a low table between two large, midnight blue arm chairs. Directly to the left of the door was a large, nondescript trunk. The far left wall of the room was covered with a large bookshelf that contained a number of worn looking books and trinkets. A wide bronze upholstered settee was positioned in the space between the fireplace area and the bookshelf. The smooth stone floor was covered by a simple, plush, ivory-colored carpet.

Hermione scanned around the room and saw that on the right wall was a wide doorway over which hung a heavy, midnight blue velvet curtain that matched the chairs. She assumed the bedroom and bathroom lay beyond it. She turned around to see Draco frowning slightly at the walls. They were interrupted from their assessment of the room when Dumbledore spoke again.

“Are you both able to cast corporeal Patronuses?” he asked with a serious look over his spectacles.

“Yes, sir,” Draco and Hermione answered at the same time. Hermione furrowed her brow slightly and gave Draco a sideways glance.

“Very good,” Dumbledore went on. “If anything urgent should arise, please send me your Patronus at once and I shall come to assist. Do you have any questions before I leave you for the evening?”

“No, sir,” Hermione answered. Dumbledore looked to Draco who shook his head.

“Very well, then. Good night, young ones,” he said with a bow of his head and exited the room, closing the door firmly with a loud click behind him.

Draco went at once to the settee and flopped down on it. He scrubbed his face roughly with his hands. “Fuck, that was awful,” he groaned. Hermione said nothing and walked slowly across the room taking in the surroundings more thoroughly.

Noticing her silence, Draco peeked out between his fingers to see her. He watched as she looked-up to the ceiling and gasped. Draco quickly followed her gaze to see the room reflected back at him. The ceiling was one giant golden mirror. He had only seen one other like it…in his parents’ bedroom. Draco raised an eyebrow in surprise. Why the hell would a room in a school have a mirrored ceiling? He shrugged away the thought and looked again to Hermione who had made her way to the curtain covered doorway.

“This is kind of a strange room, don’t you think?” he called out to her. “It doesn’t even have any windows!”

“Yes it does!” she hollered back with her head poked inside the curtained doorway. She pushed her way further into the doorway and the curtain swallowed her form completely. Draco sat-up straight and listened for her beyond the curtain. He frowned and stood-up when he heard nothing but silence.

“Granger?” he called. He pulled out his wand and started to walk toward the doorway when she suddenly stepped back through with a faraway look on her face. She blinked a couple of times and then walked to stand in front of him. “What’s in there?” he asked her looking over her shoulder in the direction of where she’d just come.

“Oh, nothing. It’s just the bedroom and the loo. There’s a window in the bedroom,” Hermione said nonchalantly. There was an awkward silence for a moment as they just stood facing each other. Hermione decided to break the silence.

“So, can you actually cast a Patronus?” she asked him with slightly more skepticism than she had meant to.

Draco made a face at her. “Of course I can,” he said defensively. “I didn’t trust all those fucking Dementors Voldemort had lurking around all the time. Why would you think I couldn’t?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “I just didn’t think it was your type of magic.”

Draco gave her a challenging glare.

“And what, exactly, is my type of magic?” he asked dangerously. The tone of his voice sent a jolt straight through Hermione.

“Damn, he’s hot when he’s angry,” she thought wildly and tried to look anywhere but into his smoldering grey eyes.

Draco noticed the change in her demeanor at his question. He eyed her curiously as she stammered through her response. “I…I don’t know. Dark…darker I guess,” she said timidly.

With an evil grin, Draco leaned close to her and said in a low voice, “How’s this for dark?” He chuckled when she shivered at his words and then pulled back quickly and yelled, “EXPECTO PATRONUM!”

A large, silver snow leopard leapt from his wand and landed in a graceful pounce upon the floor. It padded around on its broad paws and its long fluffy tail twitched back and forth. It stalked toward Hermione as it stared at her, licking at the top of its mouth as if she were prey for the taking.

“Oh, my gods,” she breathed with wide eyes.

The snow leopard sat regally before her and she glanced up at Draco who had his arms crossed with a look on his face that said,“Well?”

Hermione quickly took out her wand and quietly said, “Expecto Patronum.”

At once a silvery otter swam forth and rolled playfully in the air around Draco’s head. Draco’s leopard took notice of the otter and darted over to swat at it gently with its enormous paw. The Patronuses tumbled joyfully together around the room for a moment before dissipating in a swirl of mist.

Both Draco and Hermione smiled at the place where their Patronuses had disappeared. They looked at each other then and Hermione’s smile slowly faded into an apologetic expression. “I’m sorry I doubted that you could cast a Patronus,” she said softly. Draco shook his head.

“It’s alright. I think you are the only person besides Snape to see me do it. It wasn’t exactly a skill that I wanted to advertise having. Death Eaters don’t do Patronuses,” he said pointedly as he stowed his wand back in his robes.

“Then how did you learn?” Hermione asked as she walked to the settee and sat down.

Draco followed and plopped down next to her. He leaned back and placed his hands behind his head.

“Snape taught me how privately,” he answered. “He didn’t trust the Dementors either and said he felt it was his duty as my father’s friend and my professor to make sure I was able to defend myself. I always was curious about how he was able to cast one though,” he said with a thoughtful look. “Gotta admit it’s a bit of a mind-job to find out he was probably casting to thoughts of Potter’s mum.”

“Yes, I found it surprising at first as well,” Hermione granted, “but didn’t it seem odd to you that Snape’s Patronus was a doe?”

Draco barked out a laugh. “Of course it did! But one does not go about asking a man like Snape about the form of his Patronus.”

“No, I suppose not,” she giggled. “But I do love yours. It’s really quite extraordinary.”

“Would you ever expect something of mine to be anything less than extraordinary?” he asked her mischievously with a sly grin. She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and clicked her tongue. Draco smiled and then turned his face to her.

“Hey! You’re still supposed to explain to me how you know all of that stuff about Snape.”

Hermione gave a deep sigh and leaned her head against the back of the settee. “I told you I will explain it all, but could we please not go over it tonight? I’ve had quite enough remembering for one day.”

Draco sighed back in response, “Yeah I suppose.” He unfolded his left arm from behind his head and let it rest on the back of the settee to have his hand just behind Hermione’s head. He absentmindedly twirled one of her soft brown curls around his fingers as he admired the shining ceiling.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Hermione asked him as she met his reflected gaze in the ceiling.

“Doing what?”

“Why do you keep touching my hair?”

Draco shrugged, “Because I’ve always wanted to. Does it bother you?”

“No, but I seem to recall you saying that my hair wasn’t nice,” she said, turning her face to him.

“Granger, I didn’t mean that how it came out,” he huffed. “I only asked about the hair charm because you do your hair so quickly and easily now that I was curious about why you hadn’t done it before. I never said you needed to do it before. It was rather a mess those first two years, but after that…”

“After that what?” she pressed him when he trailed off.

Draco turned to look at her hair appreciatively as he ran his hand through several locks of it. “I must confess that I found your hair to be quite alluring. It was always so wild, but beautiful too. Maybe it’s the curls or the copper shine in it? Something about it is sexy. I had to stop myself from reaching out to touch it several times back in school.”

Hermione couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. Draco Malfoy, the prince of prim and proper, thought that her wild, loose hair was sexy. She searched his face for any sign of sarcasm or derision, but he was still just gazing lovingly at her hair as he tangled it tighter around his hand.

Draco gave it a light pull and the sensation immediately sent Hermione’s core pulsing and she closed her eyes. She loved her hair pulled. That was one thing that Ron had actually gotten right. He had known just how to pull and how hard to send her over, but it had been years since he’d done so. Hermione felt a strange combination of heartache and desire as Draco fisted even more of her hair into his strong hand. She opened her eyes to find Draco staring at her hungrily, looking every bit like his fierce Patronus.

Draco was aware of the effect that his pulling of her hair was having on her. Hermione’s breathing had deepened unconsciously with each extra twist of his fingers. He expected as much. He had noticed how her body had tensed when he had pulled her head to the side by her hair the previous night. He looked deep into her searching brown eyes and leaned in close to her.

Hermione felt her pulse quicken as Draco pulled her head towards him by her hair and brought his face into hers. He brushed his lips lightly over hers without actually kissing her and gave a quick, but firm tug of her hair forcing her head back. Her eyes dilated and she gasped loudly in pleasure. A guitar chord in D Minor suddenly twanged in the air.

Draco smirked and let go of Hermione at once and got up from the settee. He stretched his back dramatically and began to walk towards the fireplace. Hermione gawked at him. “What the hell was that about!?” she asked in frustration.

He turned to face her with a devious smile and said, “Learning.”

When she continued to stare at him with her mouth hanging open, he chuckled. “I believe just yesterday you said that I needed to work on my attention to detail,” he said as he made a show of inspecting the fireplace. Hermione gaped at him as he turned from the fireplace, took off his robes and draped them over one of the dark blue armchairs. “Don’t worry, Granger. I intend to learn a lot more before our time is through. But right now, I’m starving,” he said casually as he rubbed at his stomach.

Hermione sat-up straight and rubbed her own stomach in an attempt to calm the burning sensation that lingered after Draco’s little stunt. She composed herself with a deep breath and got up. She walked past him without acknowledgment and headed toward the curtained doorway.

“What are you going to do?” Draco called after her as she reached the door.

“Use the loo,” she answered shortly as she disappeared through the curtain.

Draco stared at the door. He puffed out a large breath and rubbed his hands over his scalp. It had taken everything in him to walk away from her when he heard that guitar strum. Images of bouncing brown curls framing a flushed face flashed in his mind and he groaned.

A loud gurgle from his stomach snapped him from his visions. He needed to eat. Dumbledore had said they simply needed to call one of the elves to bring them food. Draco thought for a moment and then said loudly, “Um…I need a house elf.”

Almost immediately a small house elf wearing a tiny Hogwarts towel appeared before him with a pop. At the same time, Hermione came back through into the sitting area holding her robes and wand in her hands.

“Oh, you called one,” she said excitedly and rushed over. She hung her robes over the second armchair and placed her wand on the table next to it before facing the tiny elf.

“Hows can Joonie bes of help to you mister and missus?” the elf squeaked with a low bow.

“Hello, Joonie,” Hermione said gently, “would you be able to tell me if Dobby is here?”

The tiny elf sniffed her nose in the air disapprovingly, “Dobby bes taking the day off missus.”

“Oh,” Hermione replied with a small pang of sadness. She had been looking forward to seeing the brave little elf again. “Well, would you please bring us something for dinner and have someone light the fireplace Joonie?”

“Yes, of course missus. Joonie will bes happy to,” the elf bowed again and popped out of sight.

As soon as the elf departed, Draco grabbed the back of the armchair with his robes on it and turned it to face the table. Hermione watched as he took the few steps over to her chair and turned it to the table as well and then bowed to her in an invitation to sit. She gave him a crooked smile and sat down. Draco pushed her in closer to the table and then took his own seat just as the fireplace roared to life with a crackling fire.

“Why did you ask about Dobby?” Draco asked after a moment.

“I wanted to see him again. He saved my life and I never got to thank him. I know he won’t remember it, but…” Hermione trailed off and looked into the fire.

Draco was trying to decide how to respond when Joonie popped back into the room with a large, covered serving platter. She placed it on the table and then snapped her fingers. At once a full place setting appeared before Draco and Hermione and when the elf snapped again a pitcher of pumpkin juice materialized in the center of the table. The elf bowed to the two and popped back out of sight.

“I wonder what she brought us,” Hermione said, lightly unfolding her napkin into her lap.

“Only one way to find out,” Draco replied as he lifted the cover from the platter. He set it on the floor beside him and looked back to the table. On the platter were roast chicken and potatoes, buttered carrots, and a small basket filled with rolls.

“Better than nothing,” Draco sighed and picked-up the serving fork from next to the platter. Hermione watched as he picked it up, expecting him to fill his plate, and was taken aback when he handed the fork to her instead.

“Don’t you want any? I thought you said you were starving,” she said puzzled.

“I am, but ladies first,” he said with a tilt of his head.

Hermione was floored. She was so used to Ron just plopping down at the table and piling his plate full before shoveling in mouthfuls of food. That was, when he actually sat down to dinner with her. She was suddenly saddened by the fact that she couldn’t even remember the last time that he had.

She hesitantly took the fork from Draco. “Thank-you,” she said softly.

Draco watched her as she carefully arranged a small portion on her plate. She had seemed so surprised that he had offered for her to be served first. Had no one ever shown her proper manners before? He remembered back to the way he used to see Weasley stuffing his face at meals in the Great Hall and he suddenly had another urge to punch the prat in the face.

He took the fork back from Hermione when she held it out to him. Draco filled his plate and then took the pitcher of juice and filled both of their cups. He took his cup and raised it. Hermione raised hers as well.

“To what shall we toast?” she asked with a smile.

Draco thought for a moment. “To days in hell and nights in heaven,” he said with a wink.

Hermione’s stomach did a little flip, but she simply nodded with a shy smile and took a sip from her cup as he did. They set down their drinks and proceeded to eat in silence.

When he had cleared most of his plate, Draco leaned back in his chair and sighed contently. Hermione was finished as well, but leaned on the table ledge and continued to pick around at the small bits of food left on her plate.

“Granger?” Draco said suddenly. Hermione looked up at him.

“Yea?” she replied setting down her fork.

“I’ve been wondering about some things.”

“Like…”

Draco sat-up a little straighter in his chair to address her. “Things about your music,” he said..

Hermione leaned back in her chair and folded her hands in her lap. “Okay,” she said as an invitation for him to continue.

“Well, first,” he began, “how and when did you learn about your teleprojection? I mean, when you explained it before you implied that you had been able to tell Potter what it was. But if he was your first, how could you have known what was happening?”

Hermione gulped. “Damn him and his perceptive mind,” she thought. She looked at him and twisted her mouth trying to figure out the best way to tell him the truth with as little embarrassment as possible.

She cleared her throat with a small cough. “Well, as you’ve seen twice now, I don’t need to have full-on sex to project. If I have a strong memory or reaction to something then those little notes and chords sound out. The more involved the experience is then the clearer, louder, and longer the music will be. Similarly with the battle aspect, I can project even if I’m just preparing for battle, like in practice duels and such.”

Draco frowned a little. “But didn’t you practice dueling in the Room of Requirement when you held those Dumbledore’s Army meetings? And what about that battle you had in the Ministry? How did you not project those times?”

“I did,” she answered quickly. “Everyone thought it was the room providing us with pump-up music for motivation during our meetings. And as far as the Department of Mysteries battle, no one really questioned it as the whole place was bizarre to begin with. I never told anyone about my ability. The only people who have ever known are you, Ron, Harry, my parents, and the Healer that diagnosed me.”

Draco thought about what she said for a moment. He raised an eyebrow at her, “You didn’t really answer my original question.”

“Damn it, he’s definitely smarter than Ron,” she cursed in her mind. He was sure to keep her on her mental toes.

Hermione sat a little straighter in her seat and looked Draco in the face. “Well, I project when I am actually in battle, right?”

“Right…” he replied.

“And when I am practicing for battle?”

“Yes…”

"And I project when I am actually having sex?”

“Yes…” Draco said and then his eyes went wide with realization. “And when you are practicing for sex?” he said with an enormous, knowing grin.

Hermione blushed and nodded. “It was summer holiday between first and second year when I started noticing the music whenever I would…”

“First and second year! Merlin, woman, how early did you start?” Draco laughed.

“Earlier than you did, apparently,” she laughed back. “When I was sure that that was what was causing it, I told my parents and they contacted St. Mungo’s to send out a Healer to investigate.”

“You just went up to your parents and said what… ‘Mum, Dad, I play music when I fuck myself’?” he asked in disbelief. Draco could never in a million years imagine explaining such a thing to his parents. The fact that his mother knew that he had sex was bad enough.

Hermione frowned at him. “Essentially, yes. My parents are very progressive. We’ve always been very honest about things. Anyway, the Healer told me that it would only get stronger as I went through puberty and that I would almost certainly project during any sexual contact. She also warned me about the possibility of it happening during other emotionally charged situations. It’s different for each person with my ability.”

They sat in silence for a minute before Hermione spoke-up again, “What else did you want to know about my music?”

“Oh, uh…” Draco said. Her explanation for his first question had caused him to forget that he had had another. “Oh, yeah. So most songs are only like three or four minutes long. What happens when you have sex or battle for longer than that?”

“The song will either blend into a new song or my mind will just continue to project an instrumental element of the same song until I’m done,” she answered easily. Draco made an interested humming noise, but otherwise said nothing more and they sat in silence for a long time just watching the fire as their stomachs settled with their meal.

“Malfoy?” Hermione said softly.

“Yea?” he answered still gazing into the flames.

“Can I ask you something now?”

Draco looked at her and said, “Shoot, Granger.”

“What is your happy memory for your Patronus?” she asked softly.

He sighed deeply. “Well,” he said, “back then, it was the memory of my father telling me that he was proud of me when I made Seeker. It was the first and only time he’s ever said it.” A pained look flashed behind his eyes, but passed quickly.

“And what is the memory now?”

Draco smiled at her sadly. “The memory of me holding Scorpius in that hallway in St. Mungo’s.”

Hermione tried to smile back at him, but thoughts of her own children brought a fresh feeling of melancholy over her and she turned her sad gaze to the floor. Draco got up and walked to her chair. He pulled the chair away from the table and knelt down on the floor in-between her legs to be eye level with her. He lifted her chin with his hand to meet his gaze.

“We will have them again, Hermione. Dumbledore said so. It will suck to be without them so long, but we will get them back,” he said gently.

“I won’t get Hugo,” she said forlornly. “He’d be reborn to Ron, I’m sure. He couldn’t be more like Ron if he tried. I think the only thing he got from me was the brown hair.”

“At least he’ll still exist,” Draco replied.

Hermione shook her head, “That’s a very cruel thing to say to a mother. How would you feel if you knew Scorpius would be reborn to Astoria instead of you?”

Draco’s heart clenched at the thought and he immediately felt horrible for having said something so callous to her.

“I’m sorry. But you shouldn’t give-up hope just yet, Gryffindor. You don’t know for sure that he’d be reborn to Ron, or that Ron will even meld again.”

Hermione gave a small snort at Draco’s use of the words ‘Gryffindor’ and ‘meld.’

“Yea, but I miss them so much already. How am I going to last years?” she said putting her arms on his shoulders. Draco moved his hands to rest on her waist.

“Who says we have to wait years?” he said suggestively as he pulled her to the edge of the chair.

“You know we have to wait,” she said solemnly. Then she realized the full implication of his statement and her stomach somersaulted violently. “You…you want me to be your new partner…to meld with?”

Draco gave a small laugh, “I should have thought that was obvious, Granger. I can think of no one else that I’d rather have carry my son again. We’ve only been together for two days and I can already tell that you are everything I have always wanted in a partner. Nothing can be reconciled with Ron or Astoria. We don’t owe them anything. They don’t even know anything happened. I know what I want. What is the point in waiting to be together?”

Hermione’s heart was pounding so hard, she was sure Draco could see it trying to escape her chest. Every part of her being was tingling and burning with the desire to possess the man in front of her. No one had ever said anything so honest to her and made her feel so wanted. There was no point in waiting. She knew what she wanted too.

She closed her arms around his neck and pulled him even closer into her body. She stared deep into his shining silver eyes and breathed, “There is no point.”

Draco leaned in so close that their noses touched. “You’ll be mine, then?”

Hermione brought her lips to hover just over his and whispered, “Yes.”

She felt his fingers grab firmly into her sides as they closed the minute distance between themselves to join in a passionate kiss. They did not hurry it like the previous night. They kept a slow, steady pace as they let their tongues explore each other. Every swirl of the tongue, every nip, suck, and lick sent jolts of ecstasy down their bodies. The heat between them came to a crest and Hermione pulled back slightly, her breathing heavy and face flushed. “Ready for some more learning?” she asked him in a low whisper against his mouth.

“Very,” he growled. He got-up from the floor, scooped Hermione swiftly out of her chair and into his arms and carried her bridal-style to the curtained doorway.
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Songs of Regret