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
- 27
- 28
- 29
Thank you to everyone who has stuck around for this fic! So much love!
There's one more chapter after this one! I promise I won't make you wait too long for it.
~A.
A haze encompasses my vision and blurs my senses. I feel like an ice cube being left outside on hot cement, the warmth around me tickling my nerves as I melt and evaporate. Death isn't a white light at the end of a tunnel; it's a devouring numbness that trickles into the soul and swallows slowly. I wish I could say I was ready - that I'd made peace and found religion or some other trite spiritual endeavor, but one phrase loops, never ending as I fall into the fuzzy void; I don't want to die.
And who would? Who actually wants to die? Many times I've contemplated the end of my existence, and it isn't the death that calls us, is it? It's the thought of no more pain. Perhaps that makes me a masochist, because of all the times I've ever contemplated letting go of life, I was never able to - and I can't now. I cling to the cord of life within my soul, begging for it not to be severed in hopes I can return to the world of the living.
They say your whole life flashes before your eyes, but all I receive are pale imitations of moments. I see myself being held in my mother's arms at the age of three, curled in her lap as she reads me a bedtime story. I see my father teaching me to mount a broom at seven, cursing under his breath when I took to flying better than he did. I see the first time I met Harry Potter in that robes shop in Diagon - the moment my life was ever entwined with his, and, by proxy, Hermione's. I see Hermione in her periwinkle dress robes our fourth year at the Yule Ball. As I recall, it was the first time I ever noticed her - really noticed her. Not for her frizzy hair or her buck teeth or her plain face, but for her stunningly brown eyes and genuine smile and kiss-me-not lips. Kiss-me-not because I was on one side of the war, and her the other. Two magnets drawn by the same fate, repulsed by each other - we never stood a chance.
"Draco, wake up."
This is how it ends, is it" Waking up? Into what? Another life? Some other universe where I'm not bound by the laws of physics or time? Will I still keep my memories? Will I still be myself?
"Wake up, you idiot!"
Well, that's not the way I imagined stepping into my next life.
"Wake up!"
Smack! My cheek burns with heat, and my eyes fly open in bewilderment. Perched above me sits a concerned angel, her curls tickling my forehead. Her long eyelashes are matted in tears as she brushes her fingers down my stinging cheek and gives a relieved sigh.
"I thought I'd lost you."
I take a moment to assess my surroundings. No, this couldn't be Heaven, could it? Not after the things I've done. Hell has a funny way of greeting me. Will she melt if I touch her? What can I say to the woman of my dreams, who I will never see again? This figment of my imagination is so inviting, though. Dare I…
My hand reaches up and cups her cheek. "Hermione." The corners of my lips curl upward. "I like this mirage."
Her eyebrows knit together. "Don't be daft. I'm not a mirage!" To prove her point, she smacks me lightly across the cheek again - enough to get my attention.
Scowling, I purse my lips together and realize there's a searing pain inside my chest. Pain means life. Am I alive? "What…?" My hand on her cheek moves up to her hairline, digging into the soft tresses and caressing them with vigor. My other hand flies up to meet the other side of her head, and then I tug her down and send my lips crashing onto hers, all inhibitions lost.
I'm alive. Alive. And I'm myself.
Hermione gasps into the kiss, resting her palms on my chest to keep from falling over completely as I dip my tongue in her mouth and explore it like it's my first time. It is, really. This is the first time I've ever been myself around her and so desperately, desperately in love. My emotions spent years on the back burner, and now they're set free like water through a broken dam, spilling into me at a rate so quick I drown in them. Remorse. Anger. Hatred. Love. Shame. Sadness. They all mix and churn together in my soul, flooding all of my senses. I only pull away to mutter, "How?"
Nose to nose, Hermione blinks back tears and answers, "Electrocution spell to kickstart your heart again. I had to-" try is what she'd like to say, but my lips are on hers again, caught up in the elation. I'm alive. I was dead, but now I'm alive.
"How did you know you could bring me back?"
"I didn't," she admits. "How did you know to destroy the book?"
A smirk finds its way to my face. "The vision you gave Greyback - of your mother destroying the Dybbuk box," -Merlin, it feels wonderful not to flinch at that word, "-it was a false memory. It was you trying to talk to me, wasn't it?"
"I'd hoped…" she whispers, searching my eyes for something. "Is he gone? For good?"
I take a moment to listen, but all that's in my head are quippy one-liners, daddy issues, and my guilt. "He's gone." Hermione gives a relieved sigh, resting her face in the crook of my neck. She relaxes on top of me, and I draw my arms around her, enveloping her in the first official hug that's all mine to give. I inhale the scent of her hair, muttering, "Are you alright?"
There's a pause. "I'm fine." Her voice trembles.
"No, you're not," I snap, quicker and meaner than meant. I'm still not sure how to control all of my emotions again now that I hold the reins. I focus on my guilt and go from there. "I did…such terrible things to you...you can't possibly…"
"I'm fine," she says again, this time firmer.
"And Weasley?"
"He's fine, too. Upstairs, resting. I fed him a sleeping draught to calm him while he heals…"
I pull her tighter against me. "I was a monster. All of those things...I r-raped you...I almost ki-"
"Stop talking," she demands, raising her head up to stare me in the eyes. "I mean it."
All I can muster is a nod in response. She continues.
"That wasn't you." Her eyes drift to my sternum.
"Then why can't you look at me?"
Defiantly, she raises her head and glares at me in the eyes. "Happy?"
"I'm alive. It's a start...Thank you."
After what feels like an eternity, we peel ourselves from the floor and carry each other up the stairs. I tend to Hermione's wounds in silence, afraid that should I say the wrong thing, I might ruin the chances of her ever forgiving me. She says she's fine, but I'm no dolt. Eventually, we find ourselves standing beside the unconscious Weasley on the sofa of the den.
"We should talk," I try.
"No." She shakes her head. "Not...not right now. Please. We need to focus on Ron. He'll be waking up soon. We need to...to modify his memories before then."
"Hermione. Hermione, look at me." I grab her by the shoulders and turn her to face me, determined. Her eyes drift up to mine, filled with tears. "You're not fine." I hold her cheek in my hand, dusting my thumb under her eye to swipe away the tears. "I'm not fine. We're not fine. None of this is...all the things I've done...Merlin, the people I've killed."
"Greyback-"
"Was only part of the problem," I tell her. "I was weak. I let him in. I put you and Weasley's life in jeopardy all because I couldn't stomach the thought of you putting blind faith in someone besides me. I'm selfish."
Hermione is stoic, soaking in my words. She settles on, "You should have trusted me…"
"I know." Now the tears flow from my eyes, and I dab at them with the back of my hand, embarrassed. "Fuck, I know…"
"Ron…"
"Let me take care of it. I burned your wand - mine won't work as well for you. We both know memory charms are temperamental." I offer out my hand between us. Hermione looks reluctant to hand my wand back. "I won't hurt you. Now or ever again." She nods timidly and hands the wand over. I turn my attention on Weasley, focusing on what bits should be stripped from his memory and what should be put in their place. "Obliviate." I then focus on weaving together the finer points of his memory, slow and careful, like lacing the tips of a fly's wings together with a needle and thread. Finally, it's done, and my heart aches.
"What will he remember?" asks Hermione softly.
"None of tonight. Or his suspicions. He'll remember we dated - no doubt he's confided in a few chums about his discontentment." Without prompting, I walk over to the potions cabinet and dig out something from the back. "Here." I offer out two vials to Hermione.
"What are they?"
"One is a contraceptive potion," I whisper, "For...you know." My throat tightens, and I clear it quickly. "The other is for the pain."
"I'm fine-"
"-Quit saying that," I snap, and Hermione jumps. I flinch at her reaction, but we both knew it would happen. No matter who dished out her torture internally, it was my body that did it all. My form frightens her, and there's nothing I can do about it. It solidifies my resolve. "Just drink the potions. Please." My arm extends between us, and Hermione reaches out, grabbing the vials with careful measure. She makes her way to the sofa opposite of Weasley and takes a seat; I follow and do the same. We sit together for a time in silence until, finally, Hermione removes the stoppers of her vials and chugs them down together. "What really happened to your mother?" I ask.
"Excuse me?"
"You said she made a deal, but the memory Greyback pulled from your mind—the one with the knife to her own throat—that was real."
Hermione sighs. "I didn't lie. She did make a deal with her Dybbuk. Just one that wasn't ideal." When my eyes pry over to hers, she continues, "The elderly woman inside her drove her mad. To free herself from the torture, she agreed to share her body with her Dybbuk...muggles would liken it to Dissociative Identity Disorder. And because far less wizards and witches understand Dybbuks than muggles with myths...she's been held in the Janus Thickey Ward of St. Mungo's for the last two years."
A coldness seeps into my chest and freezes around my heart. I reach over to Hermione's hand, squeeze it, and whisper, "I'm so sorry."
"I thought...if I could save you, it would make up for letting my mother down." She sighs. "I was a fool."
"Why?"
"Because I fell in love with you." Hermione tilts her head slowly, her eyes heavy. "I put everything at risk because of love. I let you get away with far more than I should have…"
I place a finger to her lip to silence her. "You did more for me than anyone has ever done. You're the reason I fought so hard. You're my hero, Hermione."
Her eyes flutter open and shut. "I'm...so sleepy…"
I guide her head into my lap. "I know, love. I gave you a heavy sedative."
"W-why?" Her eyes fall on my wand. "No. Draco-"
"-Shh. Go to sleep, Hermione," I brush her hair out of her eyes and lean over, placing a soft kiss on her lips. One that tells her how very much I love her. "You deserve to have a life free of my darkness."
"P-Please…"
Silver meets brown, begging me to change my mind. But I've never been more sure of anything in my life; "I can never make up for the things I've done to you, but I'm going to try, starting with giving you what you deserve: to be with someone who deserves you. It's always been him."
"But I love you."
I smile. It hurts, but I smile. "I love you, too, Hermione Granger. And I don't deserve you. Maybe in another life, but not this one."
"Dra…" Her eyes fall closed, and her head lulls to the side. Her chest rises and falls, slow and steady.
"Obliviate."
Epilogue next chapter! I feel confident you'll feel satisfied by the end of this fic.
Please leave your thoughts!
~A.
- 27
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- 29
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