Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Squirm	By : Alcoholic_Rootbeer Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 28992 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and will not make a profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
- 18
Thank you to everyone who has voted for Squirm in the Dramione awards! Voting goes till January 29th, so there's still time if you haven't done it yet!
This chapter is lighter, but this story won't stay that way. Enjoy it while you can.
~A.
We stand in silence for what feels like an eternity. I watch her eyes study the inscription with instrumental detail, fingers dancing across the blood-stained lettering like she's in a trance. My stomach tightens, and my eyes blur because I refuse to blink, even for a second, until I can read a reaction. Her stoic expression only adds to my already building tension, and, eventually, I grow impatient waiting.
I've never been one for patience.
"Hermione."
Her eyes flicker up toward mine, and her lips form a hard line. I see the muscles in her neck contract as she gulps before opening her mouth to say, "Might I… what I mean to say is… could I read it?"
"Read it?"
"Yes. The book. Your… entries. Could I-?"
"-I don't think that's a wise idea." Without thinking, I reach out and pry the book away, giving it a firm shut as I do. "Do you think this is it? The 'box'?"
I watch her swipe her tongue over her lower lip before biting it -it's an unintentionally arousing move for the darkness inside of me. "I think it's a large possibility. There are a few tests we will need to run. Where did you get it?"
Confession time: my younger, teenage self loved to pluck things off of shelves that didn't belong to him. "You remember the day we nearly died in the Room of Requirement, yes?"
She nods, slowly. "The fiendfyre. You mean the day Harry, Ron, and I saved your life."
"Details," I wave my hands in dismissal, "The point is, before the room went up in flames, I pocketed something." My hand waggles the book.
"You stole it."
"Again with the details," I roll my eyes.
"Why?"
"Does it matter?"
"I want to know all the variables."
Why did I steal it in the first place? "I'm not even sure. It was like… when I walked by it… it called to me."
"Called to you how?"
"Intuition, perhaps? How should I know?" I cross my arms, book still in hand.
"How long were you in possession of the book before you felt a change?"
"Before I killed, you mean."
A stale beat hangs in the air between us.
Then I answer. "Months, maybe."
"Were you carrying the book with you at the time?"
"No. I keep it here."
"Was there anything written in it -besides the inscription?"
"No." So many questions...
Bravely, she takes a step forward and touches my cheek. "I'd like to see inside of it. Please."
"But-"
"You can trust me, Draco. I've come this far without turning my back on you. Please."
I can't explain the trickle of distrust I feel in her -for all intents and purposes, I owe this woman my life. No, I shouldn't want to rip her limb from limb. I shouldn't want to tear her apart with my teeth. "I… It's too bright in here," I change the subject, retrieving my wand to douse the flames inside the fireplace and the various candles which lit to life upon our arrival. Without giving her time to beg any longer, I close the distance between myself and my desk, shove the book back inside, and shut the drawer. "Is it warm in here to you?" I know it isn't. My still soaked trousers remind me of the bitter draft now that I've extinguished the flames of the hearth. It still doesn't stop the cold sweat that breaks out over my skin.
"Draco…"
"I'm fine," I insist, turning to face her. My heart races as I fidget with my fingers nervously, pushing and tearing at my cuticles. I can feel it -the darkness in me. It wants to escape so badly… "You should leave."
"I'm not going anywhere," Hermione says, setting her feet in a wider stance to solidify her words. "Is it happening?"
"Water," I whisper.
"Alright. Let's find you some water."
"No need. I can have one of the house elves-"
"-If you finish that sentence, I'll hex your bits off." She gives a quirky grin, though her threat feels very real. "We're more than capable of fetching our own things. Once we've cured you, we're going to have a long chat about house elf liberation." She nabs me by the arm and proceeds to usher me out of the den. I take the lead, guiding us down hallway after hallway until we near the kitchens. As we cross the archway leading into the dining room, I hear her breath hitch. We have yet to establish the dragon in the room; the past haunts both of us when it comes to there. Ever since my parents moved out to set up roots in Naples, I haven't set foot in that treacherous memory trap called 'the dining room'.
We take a set of stone steps down to the kitchens, and I allow Hermione to pour me a glass of water from the tap while I sit at the quaint nook in the corner, where a set of stone benches offer retreat under a wooden table. This is where I take most of my meals when I'm home.
Hermione sits down beside me as I sip idly from my cup. Moments go by in silence until she's filled my cup three more times and I've quenched my thirst. I'm too shaken to use proper manners, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand like some commoner.
"Better?" she asks.
"Yes," I reply, sliding my hand over to hers and wrapping my fingers around her slender palm. "I haven't felt this… free in a long time."
"May I ask you something?"
"I believe you just did," I retort with a hint of a smirk. Her reply is a swift smack on my shoulder, followed by a teasing eye roll.
"When you managed to stop yourself, what was going on inside your mind?"
"I've told you, haven't I? I couldn't get you out of my skull. It's like you were wedged there behind my eyelids, giving me this disappointed scowl."
"You were afraid of disappointing me?"
"I guess that's one way to word it." I tug her hand closer to me, spreading her fingers wide and noticing the vast size difference in not only our fingers, but our nail beds as well. She's so delicate, but I do notice the torn skin at the edge of her fingers, as well as the shortness of her nails. "Nail biting is a bad habit, Granger."
"So I'm Granger again, am I?" she prods me in the side with her free hand, making me jump in surprise. Cold hands.
I squeeze her hand tighter, hearing the ringing in the back of my head. No. Not now. I'm content. I don't want to… "What happens now? We have the box. Do we destroy it?"
"No." She shakes her head. "That's a very bad idea."
"Why?"
"If one destroys the original tether to the spirit, it will create a new one -a permanent one within the host."
"Don't destroy the book," I nod. "Noted."
"How are you feeling?" she asks.
"Cold. Bitter. Alone." I run my free hand over my eyes, rubbing away at them in exhaustion. "But more myself than I have in ages. Is that a good thing?"
"It's a very good thing. Wonderful, in fact."
A smile creeps up the sides of my mouth, though I try to muffle it with a question which has been burning in the back of my mind since the topic was mentioned. "Hermione, what happened to the woman? And her spirit?"
I feel her hand grow stiffer in mine; Hermione's whole body tenses. With a quick jerk, she relinquishes my hand and scoots off the bench, grabbing my cup to place into the sink. "Are you finished?"
Suspicious, I raise an eyebrow. "Hermione…"
"Are you finished?"
"Yes."
The glass tinkers as it is set in the sink, and Hermione's hands wrap around the counter's edge. "You'll have to forgive me. The topic is still very fresh in my mind, and I feared the worst for the woman when I was researching her case. Some points were very touch and go…" She turns her head and gives me a weary smile. "Just know, everything was successful. Her and her spirit were able to work out an agreement of sorts."
"Agreement?"
"To fulfill the Dyb- sorry, to fulfill the spirit's unfinished business. Yours, however, will not succumb to parlays, I imagine."
"What is my -its unfinished business is, do you think?" It's difficult to imagine this is anyone's will but my own. It feels so personal.
"That's why I'd hoped to have a look in that journal of yours."
My eyes fall to the table, bleak and contemplative. "Do you really think it will help?"
"I think if we can make a connection between your victims, we might be able to ascertain motive, or at the very least a person they all could have been connected to."
"They all deserved it." I hear the words, but I don't recall the want to say them out loud.
Instead of arguing, Hermione simply shrugs and says, "I'm sure they did." Her pretty brown eyes fall on my pale gray irises, resilient in their resolve to find the good in me. "You must be freezing. Come, let's get you out of those sopping pants, or you're bound to catch cold."
I find myself smirking. "Hermione Granger, are you trying to get me naked? All you need do is ask." To be cheeky, I blow her a mocking kiss as I stand.
"Believe it or not, I'm concerned for your health. -Listen to me," she giggles, "Worried about a Malfoy's health. I never thought I'd see the day."
"Everyone succumbs to our charms, sooner or later." I feel it -a playfulness inside of me I haven't felt since I was a teen, chasing after short skirts around the halls of Hogwarts. There's a lightness in my chest, and my head is far less foggy, and… dare I think it, I feel again. Not just anger or retaliation, but eagerness and admiration for the woman in front of me. I feel the pax clawing in the darkness, but it's fearful of the light inside Hermione's tender smile. With her, I'm given a reprieve from whomever I've been all these years. I don't want this to go to waste. "Come here." I curl one finger, beckoning her on.
"Why?"
"Just do it."
And she does. She obeys my every command like the -no, stop it. You're not commanding her.
"Well," she says as she stops inches away. "I'm here. Now wha-"
My lips meet hers at the same time that my fingers dance across her cheeks, delicate and persuasive. They slip back into the roots of her hair, desperate for contact. I'm desperate for contact. I don't want to lose this part of myself again. The only way I want to become lost is within her.
What is this?
It's love. You're in love with her, you dolt.
"Say you'll stay," I whisper, nose to nose with her. "Don't leave me alone with myself right now."
A smooth hand strokes down my cheek. "I said I'd help you out of your clothes, didn't I?"
I can't stifle an amused smirk. "I noticed you never said anything about getting me in something else."
"Skin to skin contact is clinically proven to warm a body faster."
"I'm freezing, then."
"Practically turning blue." She pulls away from me and giggles as she moves toward the hall. "Warm water should also help… which way is the bath?"
There's an itch in the back of my head, but I ignore it, for now. Right now, all that matters is Hermione and the promise of her warm, wet embrace. My darkness can wait... for now.
Next chapter promises a zesty lemon with some moving plot at the end. XD Very excited to share it with you!
Will update soon.
~A.
- 16
- 17
- 18
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