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Nightmares	By : Tnteacups Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 12393 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make any money from this writing.

Chapter List
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- 19
For the beginning of the latest update, please jump back to chapter 16, "I Love You".

Beginning

The temperature had dropped to nearly freezing, and Hermione stood, shivering, but unable to knock on the door of Malfoy Manor. It was the last place she could go. The last place she’d wanted to go. She knew Ron would never take her back if she took refuge with Draco, but she just couldn’t bring herself to go back to the Burrow.
She was simply standing there, staring at the door, terrified to knock, and terrified to walk away. The door swung open, and before her stood the tall blonde matron of the house. The sight of her startled Hermione more than the door opening. It made perfect sense the the house-elves had told them someone was just standing on their front step, freezing to death. To her surprise, a memory of Draco saying his mother had hair like Bellatrix’s came to mind, and she realized he hadn’t been joking. The blonde woman’s hair was curly, not quite as bushy, but not quite the elegant spirals Hermione’s hair had been during her captivity. She was wearing rich burgundy robes, but they weren’t buttoned completely, and her face was pale, colorless. Hermione stared at her for a moment, trying to think of something polite to say, to explain why she was just standing there, but Narcissa seemed to measure her with a single gaze, and then stepped back, holding the door open for her.
“Come in, Miss Granger.” She said graciously, though lacking the usual smile of a hostess. “We’ve already had dinner, but I can have one of the elves fetch you something.”
“No thank you, I’m not hungry.” Hermione said, feeling as though her stomach were too twisted into knots to feel the lack of food that day.
“Well, if that changes, just call for one. They’re bound to obey you.” She said, giving Hermione a small, knowing smirk. Hermione paused in rubbing her arms warm, and blinked at the woman.
“I’m not sure I follow.” She said, wondering if it was supposed to be an insult.
“Resident or not, they’re bound to you now. The child may not have been carried to term, but the wards Lucius attempted to fix haven’t kept you out, so that can only mean the blood magic recognizes you. It did the same for me, when I conceived.” Narcissa explained, swinging the door shut with a shuddering note of finality. Hermione swallowed nervously, not entirely certain the woman was being rude.
“Where’s Draco?” She decided to ask as Narcissa watched her shiver.
“In his room, or study, I imagine. He hardly leaves his wing.”
“Thank you.” Hermione murmured, and hurried up the large staircase, not waiting for permission. It made her skin feel crawly that the blood-magic of the house thought she belonged, but it also gave her a strange sense of satisfaction to know there was, indeed, a place she technically belonged. She hurried to Draco’s office, only to find it empty, and looked down the hall at the few other doors. She stepped toward one, her fingers itching as the approached the knob, and instead of opening it, she knocked, waiting for a reply.
“Go away, mother!” The shout from inside made her heart clench. It was him, and he sounded awful. As though he’d been crying, or screaming, or maybe both. She twisted the knob without further announcing her presence, and stepped into the room, freezing for a moment as she came face to face with the familiar space. She’d been here only once since the war, and it had been before she’d known the full extent of what happened inside. Seeing it now, with a disheveled, sleep-deprived, and stressed-looking Malfoy brought back a well of emotion and memory, and she could practically feel the sensation of her hair being brushed, the boredom of reading ANOTHER maternity book while she watched both the clock and the door. She could smell him surrounding her, his scent, the sheets, the bath.
It hit her like a hammer, and suddenly, she felt tears in her eyes, blurring her vision, but doing nothing for the memories.
“Hermione…” Draco finally spoke, his voice choked, and disbelieving. “You came back?”
“I-I…” She stumbled over her words, her mouth moving soundlessly for part of it, trying to figure out what exactly to say to him. “Ron broke up with me.”
There was silence as she stood there, trying to blink back her tears, and control her breathing, but she could see the blurry shape of him approaching. She didn’t fight as he wrapped his arms around her, and instead, the wash of familiar comfort that came over her made her start sobbing. She buried her face in his chest, and threw her arms around him, holding him to her as she bawled.
“I thought you’d never come back…” Draco murmured, pressing his face into her hair. His hands stroked her curls, and she could feel his chest shaking as he cried with her. She felt her legs trembling, and nudged him backward, toward the bed, needing to sit before she collapsed. He went easily, cradling her in his lap, and lying back, curling his body around hers as they lay there, broken and weeping. She held onto him, feeling a sense of deja-vu. She had been in this bed with him before, holding each other. She’d cried with him before. But as her tears slowly dried, and his chest stopped shaking, she realized one very big difference. She had no reason to stay, no barriers keeping her from leaving, and it didn’t matter, because she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to escape the house, or get away from the weird feelings he evoked. She just wanted to hold him, until she either woke up from whatever dream this must be, or turned to dust.
“I think I’m broken, Draco…” She admitted to the quiet room, voicing what she’d never been able to tell the Weasleys, Harry, or the muggle doctor. “I stopped wanting to live, until I had that first memory come back. Then I got so mad, I didn’t want to die without knowing the truth. Now, I don’t even know. Nothing makes sense anymore.”
“Me, too. Except, after the war, the only reason I kept breathing each morning was the hope that you’d come back to me. Earlier, when you left, I was certain it was over… When you came barging in here, I was thinking about how to do it.” He whispered into her hair, sending a shiver of fear down her spine. What if she’d stood outside too long, and he’d been dead by the time she found him? The thought filled her with terror.
“I can’t promise that everything will work out, or that we’ll stay together forever, but… We can try. Just, don’t ever think about dying again.” She ordered, pulling back enough to see his tear-stained face. His eyes were red-rimmed, and his cheeks were flushed, but his lips broke into a lopsided grin that made him look half-mad.
“I promise.” He croaked, a half a laugh finishing his statement. Hermione stared at him, a small smile stretching her face as she stared into his hopeful eyes. It was heart-wrenchingly beautiful, she thought. Those silver eyes filled with something happy. She knew as he studied her face that she must look the same. The moment his gaze fell to her mouth, she knew what he was thinking, but she didn’t move away. She didn’t stop him, or say anything as he leaned in, his eyes fluttered closed, and she let her own drift shut. His mouth was soft and warm on hers, but hesitant. She thought for a moment of Ron. He would never take her back after this. That bridge was on fire, and as her fingers stretched out to rest against Draco’s chest, she wondered if starting over from ashes was really such a bad thing...
A/N: This one was kind of hard to end for me, and I'm still not entirely happy with it, HOWEVER, I am happy that I finally managed to finish what started out as a simple mindbug that needed to be written down. It just kept needing more, though, and the story I expected to be a short one-chapter horror ended up taking three years to explore. So I finally decided to upload it, and push myself to bring it to an end, one way or another.
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Nightmares