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
- 42
- 43
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Draco began to turn onto his side in his sleep, but woke with a start when his brain registered the fact that he couldn’t move. His heart raced and his sleep-fogged mind jolted with fear and confusion as he blinked down to see himself nude and spread eagle with wrists and ankles magically bound to the bed. The fear intensified when he looked frantically about to find himself alone.
“Hermione!” he instinctively screamed, pulling at his restraints. “Hermione, where are you!”
Almost at once and without a sound, Hermione appeared at the bedside and Draco nearly yelped at the suddenness of her presence.
“Merlin almighty,” he grumbled with a puff of erratic breath and a frown at her, “you scared the shit out of me, love.”
Hermione said nothing as she stared down at him. Draco’s frown deepened.
“Why am I tied up?” he demanded. “Are you alright?”
She grinned and Draco’s eyes zeroed in on the sight of her lips curling over her teeth. They really were beautiful lips. They looked most beautiful when they were wrapped around his…
Holy fuck!
Draco hissed at the touch when Hermione suddenly reached forward and took his already hard cock in her hand. He bucked his hips dramatically in response and was rewarded with a loud smack to his thigh.
“What the hell?” he snapped at her despite the way his eyes started to roll with how she was deliberately and rather expertly stroking him.
“Play time,” she said.
“A bit of warning that you wanted to play would’ve been nice. What do you mean by waking me up like this without even going over the rules?”
Hermione stilled her hand and gripped her fingers tightly around him until he gasped. “There’s only one rule,” she said, lust and mischief twinkling in her eyes as she gazed down at his prone form, “you do whatever the fuck I say.”
Draco’s loins burned at that and his eyes widened. What had gotten into her! Hermione had never been this forceful or domineering. And to not follow their rules for play!? This wasn’t like her at all… And what the hell was she wearing? A black leather corset and matching crotchless knickers with thigh-high lace-up boots? She certainly was getting creative with her clothing transfigurations.
Hermione frowned at the way he was eyeing her.
“Hermione – ah!” Draco cried out when her grip on his cock tightened painfully. He tried to breathe through the sudden and intense rush of endorphins her actions brought on as he glanced down to his purpling tip in her fingers.
She leaned over him to look him in the eyes. “Are we clear on the rule?”
Draco gawked at her and she squeezed even tighter.
“Yes!” he wheezed out.
“Yes, what?” Hermione challenged him, tugging slightly. Draco winced.
“Yes, mistress!” he shouted out through gritted teeth.
Hermione smiled approvingly and loosened her hold but didn’t let go. “Good boy,” she praised, leaning back and smacking his thigh lightly again. That’s when her music started.
Draco flopped his head back onto the mattress and stared up at the ceiling in shock. His soulmate was projecting Rammstein’s Ich Will. How did she even know such a song? And where the bloody fuck was this domineering confidence coming from? Even during the less than handful of other times they’d switched roles in their sex play she’d never been this forceful or assertive. In fact, any time she’d attempted a dominant position, she’d still looked to him for guidance – peeking up at him through shy lashes, her bottom lip bitten in her teeth.
He smiled at the recollections and Hermione hit him again. “Something funny?” she asked severely.
Draco gasped at the sharper more focused pain of the newest hit and looked down to see that Hermione had struck him with a crop.
“What in the hell are you- ahh!” he cried when she brought the crop down on his leg again.
“Did I say you could speak freely?” she asked him, eyebrow raised. Draco shook his head. Hermione smiled and bent over him to stroke his cheek with the back of her hand. “Are you going to be my good boy?”
His eyes darted down to the crop in her hand and then to the impossibly tight ensemble she was wearing before meeting her gaze again. He nodded mutely. Hermione straightened and took a step back.
“You will refer to me as Mudblood for the remainder of our session,” she commanded. “Understood?”
Draco lifted his head from the mattress in surprise and frowned at her. “What?”
Hermione’s expression went dark. “I see I have my work cut out for me,” she said, running her hand over the crop in front of her. In the blink of an eye, Draco found himself upright and suspended magically by his hands and wrists.
“How are you doing this?” he asked, looking around curiously for the bed that had disappeared. The room had transformed as well. It was no longer their secret room, but rather a red-walled dungeon of sorts.
“You did not properly address me,” Hermione admonished, flicking the crop lightly against his dick.
Draco shuddered at the sensation but didn’t respond and Hermione repeated the action with slightly more force.
“I’m sorry, Mudblood!” Draco called out that time. Hermione smiled widely.
“That’s much better,” she cooed, sliding the crop down over his chest. She lowered herself to her knees before him and took him gently into one hand. She set aside the crop and then ran her nails down the length of him and Draco sucked in a breath.
“Do not move,” Hermione commanded.
Draco obeyed and shut his eyes as Hermione proceeded to work him over with what Draco had to admit was the best hand job she’d ever given him.
“Oh, gods,” Draco moaned, unable to remain silent as she picked up the pace.
Hermione smiled devilishly and leaned her face close to his cock. “You are not allowed to come,” she purred, purposefully touching her lips to his tip without ceasing her hand movements.
“Evil,” he breathed.
Hermione stood, crop back in one hand, Draco’s cock still in the other. “What a nasty, selfish little thing you are,” she tsked, yanking him until he whimpered, “wanting to come before I’ve been able to have my fun.”
“I’m sorry, Mu...Mud…” the word stuck in his throat.
Hermione gave him a sneer. “Cat got you tongue?” she inquired in a silky voice. “Perhaps another pussy can loosen it.”
She let go of his genitals and snapped her fingers. Draco fell to his knees before her as the suspension spell was lifted. He peered up at her and she slid her fingers into his hair over his scalp.
“Pleasure me,” Hermione ordered him. Draco didn’t hesitate to comply. He pushed his face forward and set to licking and probing at the wetness between her legs with a hungry vigor. Hermione curled her fingers into his hair to pull it as he worked her with his tongue.
Draco placed his hands to her thighs and began to slide them around to her backside. Hermione smacked his right arm with the crop to stop him.
“Greedy,” she breathed at him in mock admonishment of his enthusiasm, her mouth pulling up into a smirk. Draco lowered his arms and looked up at her as he continued with his tongue to return a half smirk.
Hermione’s face suddenly morphed into a stern scowl and she pulled at his hair to force him to rise. Draco hissed at the pain of the motion.
“Jesus, Hermione,” he gasped involuntarily when she tightened her hold on his hair to yank his head to the side.
“You’re being sloppy,” she said. “You can’t be sloppy.”
Draco merely gaped at her. Hermione shook her head in disappointment and shoved him. “Turn around,” she barked.
He did so and found himself in the dining hall of his Manor. “What the fuck?”
The words had barely left his mouth when he was once again restrained and partially suspended, his arms bound tightly with rope so that his feet just touched the floor. He let out a nervous laugh.
“What is this?” he said, attempting to look over his shoulder at her.
“Face forward,” she said harshly.
“This doesn’t seem like fun anym-”
“Silence!”
Draco snapped his mouth shut as the ropes twisted tighter and bit into his arms. He shut his eyes as Hermione came up behind him. She pressed her body flush against his and set her lips to his ear.
“You need to remember,” she whispered. “I’m going to make sure you remember…”
Draco pulled a confused face. What was this? “Remember wha-aah!”
She had taken a step back and swatted the crop hard across his arse. “What am I?” she asked.
Draco shook his head slightly as he tried to figure out what was happening.
“I...I dunno. Um…a woman?” he answered hesitantly.
*smack*
Draco winced at the sting of the hit across his back. Hermione simply repeated the question.
“What am I?”
“Clever?”
*smack*
“My soulmate.”
*smack*
The hit was even harder and Draco shut his eyes against the pain. “Give me a hint, would you?” he gritted out.
*smack*
“What am I?” Hermione hissed angrily.
Draco’s fingers clutched at the ropes overhead as his brain lurched for an appropriate response. “A Gryffindor?”
*smack*
“Fuck!” Draco shouted at the increasing intensity. “A fire tamer!”
“No!” Hermione growled as she struck him again. Her music rose considerably in volume as she yelled the question at him. “What am I!?”
“My life!” Draco answered desperately.
*SMACK*
“What am I!?”
Draco’s limbs began to shake. “I…I don’t…”
*SMACK*
“Yellow…” he gasped.
*SMACK*
“YELLOW!”
*SMACK*
Draco’s legs started to give out. “RED!”
“WHAT AM I!?”
“Hermione…please…”
The sound of the crop meeting skin echoed again and Draco screamed.
“RED! RED! For the love of Merlin!” he begged.
Hermione suddenly appeared back in front of him and Draco tried to recoil in his restraints. She was covered in blood.
“Gods!” he cried, his pain instantly forgotten as his eyes flew over her in search of the source of the blood. “Hermi…”
“What did I tell you to call me?” she asked again in a voice so deadly, Draco couldn’t help but look her in the face again.
He stared at her and grimaced at the sight of the crimson dripping from her fringe.
“Mudblood,” he whispered.
She cocked an eyebrow. “Say it louder,” she said.
Draco continued to shake where he stood but raised his head high as he replied. “You’re a Mudblood.”
Hermione gave him a small smile and looked down to her left arm. Draco followed her gaze and let out an anguished gasp at the sight of the word “MUDBLOOD” freshly carved deep into her flesh.
“Red,” Draco ground out, as he fought the sudden onset of nausea the wound had brought on. “Hermione, whatever the fuck this is, red. I’m done. Red, red, red!”
Hermione shook her head. “It hasn’t even begun yet,” she said.
“Untie me,” he demanded in his most dominant voice. “Untie me, now!”
She ignored his plea. “We won’t survive this,” she said, her voice softer, almost sad. Draco began to thrash against his bindings.
“Stop this!” he shouted at her.
Hermione burst into flames. The heat instantly scorched away the ropes holding Draco up. He collapsed at once into a pile of black fabric.
“What the fuck…” he began, discovering that he was no longer naked and that the fabric was in fact his Death Eater robes that he was now wearing. His hands flew to his face to feel the cold metal of his Death Eater mask upon it.
“Terrible things happen to wizards that meddle with time,” Hermione said, looking down at him with her fiery eyes.
Draco gaped up at her as she reached her flaming hands out to him. He tried to back away but found himself unable to move. Hermione set her hands on either side of his face and pressed her palms to his mask.
“Hermione!” he shouted desperately, his fear spiking, as the heat of her fire began to warm the metal. “Hermione, stop!”
She didn’t relent but instead leaned down to place a kiss to the mouth of the mask.
“HERMIONE!” he shrieked as his skin began to sear. “STOP! STOP!”
The silver sheen of the mask darkened to black before turning a brilliant, glowing orange under the intense heat of Hermione’s fire. Draco thrashed as he screamed.
“HERMIONE! NOOOO! NOOOO!”
His robes burst into flames.
“NOOOOO!!!! AAAAH!!! AAAAHHHH!!!”
Hermione simply pulled back and smiled down at him. She watched him struggle a moment and then opened her mouth. A swarm of butterflies and a cascade of green pearls spewed forth from her throat and surrounded them.
Draco writhed in horror and agony as he burned at her feet, butterflies and pearls and flame swirling about him.
Hermione crouched down beside him and reached a hand to his face to make him look at her. He screamed even louder when he looked upon her.
She was no longer on fire. Instead, her skin was mottled and rotting, her eyes sunken in, maggots and worms squirming from the sockets. She was a corpse. A raven was sitting on her shoulder.
“What we are,” she said, her decayed jaw falling off as she finished the sentence. The raven cawed.
And cawed again.
“AAAHH! NOOO!” Draco wailed.
((CAW CAW CAW))
“NOOOOOO!”
((CAW CAW CAW CAW))
Draco bolted upright in the bed, the echoes of his screams still reverberating about the cavernous bedroom with the screeching sounds of the waking charm blaring from his wand on the nightstand. He gulped for breath as he tried to blink away the horrid images of the nightmare and swatted at his wand to silence it before leaning to the side to retch over the edge of the bed.
“What the fuck?” he grumbled with a disgusted pout at the runny bile now covering his crutch on the floor. He slowly sat upright again and leaned back against the wall at the head of the bed. He scrubbed at his face and then shook his head to try and wake himself fully. “What the fuck?” he repeated before scanning his eyes around the room.
He was alone.
“Hermione!?”
He grabbed for his wand from the night stand and furrowed his brow at the absence of Hermione’s wand beside his own.
“Hermione!?” he called out again as he made quick work of vanishing the mess he’d made beside the bed. He took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm his still labored breathing and then swung his legs over the side.
“Fuck me,” he groaned, putting a hand to his forehead. He felt like he hadn’t slept a wink. “No more late night Horcrux hunts…”
He lowered his hand and looked about the room once more. “Hermione!?” he called in the direction of the bathroom.
When he got no response, he let out a huff and reached under his pillow for his mirror. He frowned deeply when his hand met nothing but still warm sheets. He quickly lifted the pillow and then Hermione’s, but found nothing. He chucked the pillows at the mattress and flicked his wand.
“Accio my mirror,” he said. Nothing happened and he gave another frustrated flick of his wand. “Accio my mirror!”
Still no mirror.
With a tired, irritated growl, he quickly leaned down to snatch up his clothes that were still in a pile on the floor near the end of the bed from the night before and began rifling through all of his pockets.
“Where is it?” he grumbled anxiously out loud to himself. “I know I grabbed it when I left the dorm.”
His pockets yielded nothing as well and Draco chucked his clothes back down before running a hand over his scalp in unease.
“I know I grabbed it,” he repeated, his expression now worried as he set his feet to the floor and took up his crutch. He got up and immediately made for the bathroom to keep looking.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Excuse me,” Neville said to his fellow Gryffindors as he stood from the breakfast table.
“Of course,” Hermione said with a sad look across the Great Hall to the Hufflepuff table where Hannah Abbott was sobbing into Susan’s shoulder, the letter from her parents that Hermione had instructed a generic school owl to deliver her clutched in her hand.
The Gryffindors all watched as Neville swiftly made his way to Hannah’s side. The distraught Hufflepuff looked up at her boyfriend and nearly flung herself into his embrace with another sob.
“Everything feels sad this morning,” Parvati noted, turning away from the scene to face her remaining housemates.
Lavender nodded in agreement. “Has anyone heard from Ron yet?” she inquired quietly, looking somewhat imploringly at Hermione and Ginny seated across from her. “Or his sister?”
Ginny pushed Harry’s glasses up her nose as she shook her head. “Not yet,” she lied convincingly, “but I’m sure they’re fine.”
“Ron said he’d owl us as soon as he could,” Hermione added with what she hoped passed for a reassuring smile. The others merely gave her halfhearted nods as they returned their attentions to their breakfasts.
Ginny gave Hermione a sideways look. “Are you okay?” she asked in a hush.
Hermione let out a small sniff. “I should be asking you that, Harry,” she said with a tired smile.
“You’ve already asked me that,” Ginny replied in a teasingly reproachful tone, “five times. And the answer is still yes. I’m doing fine. You, on the other hand, look like hell.”
“Thanks,” Hermione responded wryly.
Ginny leaned closer to her. “I’m serious. Are you alright?”
Hermione sighed and nodded. “I just couldn’t sleep,” she whispered back.
“Yeah,” Ginny commiserated quietly, “me either. Every time I closed my eyes all I could see was…”
She trailed off as she stabbed at her eggs and Hermione merely nodded. The image of Harry’s burnt skin sloughing off into her hands had replayed in her brain more than a few times. The previous night really had been horrific for everyone involved.
“But at least you didn’t have the added stress of learning that the Order thinks of you as a dangerous weapon,” Hermione thought to herself with a quick glance up at the staff table where Dumbledore was sipping at tea, looking to all the world the perfectly composed headmaster, instead of the meddling man that had nearly burned Harry Potter alive. Hermione frowned and then trained her eyes on the Slytherin table.
Ginny followed her line of sight to the empty stretch of bench across the Hall. “And Falcon?” she asked her. “How’s he holding up?”
Hermione hesitated. “He…he’s okay, I think. He slept at any rate. He was still out cold when I left to meet you.”
“At least someone got some rest,” Ginny muttered.
“He ought to be here by now, though,” Hermione said, reaching into her robes for her mirror. “I set an alarm on his wand that should’ve woken him.”
She pulled the mirror from its bag and looked down at it. The blood drained from her face.
“What’s wrong?” Ginny whispered, leaning over to see the mirror. Her Polyjuiced green eyes went wide at the image she saw. “Oh shit,” she said just as Hermione hastily stuffed the mirror back into its bag and then stood.
“I’m going to go find Draco,” Hermione said calmly. Too calmly.
The other Gryffindors merely smiled her a farewell as they went on with their breakfasts but Ginny gave her a worried look and went to stand.
“No,” Hermione shook her head at her. “Stay and eat…I’ll be ok.”
Ginny raised a skeptical brow at that.
“I’m sure there’s an explanation. It will be fine,” Hermione said, unable to completely mask the unease in her tone when she looked again to the staff table to see Snape eyeing her closely. She looked back to Ginny. “I’ll see you soon,” she said and then swiftly made her way out of the Great Hall.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Hey, look!" Goyle shouted as he picked up the velvet bag from the floor of the Slytherin common room. He held it up with a huge dopey smile at Crabbe. "Isn't this Malfoy's?"
Crabbe eyed the bag and a wicked grin spread across his face. "Sure is. It's the mirror he uses to talk to that girl."
"Margot? Mary?" Goyle tried to remember as he opened the bag and looked at the black face of the mirror.
"Give it here!" Crabbe demanded, reaching for it.
Goyle handed it over without hesitation. "What should we do?"
"You should return it to Draco," came the quiet yet almost threatening suggestion from Theo who had emerged from their dorm.
Crabbe's thick brow furrowed as he glared back at him. "And you should piss off, Nott," he said. "Finders keepers."
Goyle looked down at the bag still in his grasp. "Malfoy will need it to talk to his girl, though," he said, his features distorting with apparent concern.
One of Theo's eyebrows ticked up in surprise at Goyle's words and Crabbe snorted.
“Girlfriend,” he scoffed. “When he’s fucking Granger?”
“You know why…” Goyle said in a secretive hush.
Crabbe scowled. “Yeah, and it’s the dumbest plan ever.”
Theo snickered and Crabbe glowered harder. “What’s so funny,” Crabbe demanded.
“The irony of you declaring something to be dumb is what’s funny,” Theo said. He took a step toward Crabbe and held out his hand in a silent command for him to pass him the mirror as his face took on a suddenly very serious expression. “And you’ll want to be careful how you express your sentiments about Draco,” he warned in a deadly whisper. “You wouldn’t want it getting back to the Dark Lord that you were anything less than loyal to one of his chosen simply because you didn’t get picked for a Quidditch position.”
Crabbe’s angry look held, but his eyes couldn’t hide his apprehension at the threat as he rather reluctantly set the mirror into Theo’s palm.
“Whatever,” Crabbe muttered before turning and bumping Goyle hard in the shoulder with his own. “Come on,” he said.
Goyle rubbed at his shoulder and frowned as he watched Crabbe head out the door.
"He's been weird," he replied, looking to his feet and shaking his head. He let out an inelegant huff and then glanced back up at Theo. "I'm gon’ go now," he said before dropping the mirror bag to the floor and then slowly turning and lumbering off.
Theo's lips pursed at just how lost Goyle looked walking off alone and then sighed to himself.
"Everything's been weird," he whispered, bending over to retrieve the small velvet bag. It was at that moment that the mirror suddenly jerked as if trying to escape from Theo’s hand.
“Whoa there, little mirror,” Theo chuckled, tightening his grasp on the glass as it was pulled again by the force of an accio. “Looks like Drake’s missing you.”
He looked about the empty Slytherin common room and then began to carefully place the mirror into the bag, without letting it fly away, when he caught a glimpse of color shine out from it. He looked down at it. He blinked at the face staring back at him and then calmly finished slipping the mirror into its bag. He held the bag out by its drawstrings to allow it to float before him with the magic of the summoning spell.
“Let’s return you, shall we,” Theo said as he began to follow the directions the mirror led him. “We must have a talk with your owner.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Draco!” Hermione called out the moment she shut the door to their room. She hurried across the sitting area to the bedroom and flung aside the curtain. “Draco!”
Draco looked up from where he was seated on the edge of the bed, tugging on his socks. “Oh damn,” he said, looking back down to quicken his pace. “Am I running that late?”
“Not yet,” Hermione replied, still at the entrance watching as he then accio’d his shoes to himself.
“Good… This morning has been dreadful,” he began, hastily putting on his shoes and then reaching up to do his tie. “Thank you for setting that alarm for me, by the way. I’d probably be even later right now if you hadn’t. Woke me from the worst nightmare; you wouldn’t believe. I think that Horcrux fucked with my psyche a bit more than I thought.”
He finished with his tie and reached down for his crutch before standing carefully. “And then,” he went on, “I’ve spent the last ten minutes searching all over for-”
“Your mirror?” Hermione said.
Draco finally looked back up at her and he stilled at once when he saw the rather wild and anxious look on her face. “What’s wrong?” he asked. Before she could answer a faint knocking noise from beyond the bedroom curtain drew their attention.
“Is that someone knocking at our door?” Draco said in disbelief.
Hermione pulled her wand without answering and pushed through the curtain back into the sitting area. Draco quickly adjusted his crutch under his arm and followed after her.
He found Hermione already before the main oak door with her wand leveled at it.
“Someone’s knocking through the tapestry,” she whispered.
“Only Sev and Albus know we’re here,” Draco whispered back. “And you can’t tell there’s a door behind the tapestry without using the password.”
Hermione gave him a troubled glance. “Perhaps we were followed,” she said.
Draco frowned at her and then hobbled closer to the door and set his ear to it. “I don’t think that’s someone knocking. The sound is too light and the rhythm too steady.”
“Like something small is repeatedly trying to get through the door,” Hermione agreed with a perplexed look.
“My mirror!” Draco exclaimed, reaching to open the door. “I summoned it. I must’ve left it in the dorm after all.”
Hermione’s eyes widened in alarm. “No, wait! Theo has-”
But before she could stop him, Draco had the door open and was pushing at the tapestry.
“See,” Draco said, leaning on his crutch to hold the tapestry aside with one arm and snag his floating mirror with the other, “no reason to be-”
The words caught in his throat when he looked up to see Theo standing just beyond the tapestry staring back at him.
“Invite me in?” Theo said dryly.
“Petrificus totalus!”
Hermione had the spell out so fast she was able to recast a floating charm on Theo before his frozen body could hit the floor. She levitated him swiftly into the room and set him at her feet.
“What in the hell is the matter with you?” she hissed at Draco as he shut the door and turned to her. “Have you lost your senses completely?”
“How was I to expect he’d be just outside?” he snapped back. “Students never come down here.”
Hermione frowned. “You’re being sloppy.”
Draco’s face went white. “What did you just say?”
“You know better than to just fling open this door. If you’d have waited just one moment I could’ve warned you that Theo had your mirror,” she scolded, nodding down to Theo’s prone form.
Draco blinked at her. “What?”
“I saw him in it,” she said. “That’s why I came back down here. You hadn’t come to breakfast yet and I checked my mirror to see if you were awake and he was staring back at me from it.”
Draco shook his head as he looked from the mirror in his hand to his friend on the floor. “Theo wouldn’t steal from me.”
“Then how’d he get it?” Hermione asked, her wand trained on Theo despite his frozen state. “And how’d he find us here?”
Draco’s face twisted in concerned thought. “Allow him to speak,” he said.
Hermione turned her wrist a few degrees as she whispered the counter and Theo immediately let out a relieved gasp when the binding spell was lifted from his face and throat.
“Not the welcome I’d imagined,” he said with a slight groan.
“Theo, what the fuck, mate?” Draco growled at him with an angry shake of the hand holding the mirror.
“The answer is in your question,” Theo frowned back. “I’m your best mate…or so I thought. Your most recent treatment of me would suggest otherwise… Do you think you could have Margaret unbind me now?”
He looked pointedly at Hermione as he drew out the name Margaret and Draco made a hard face.
“Obliviate him,” Draco said without looking away from Theo. Theo’s eyes went just as hard.
“Would I have come straight to you!?” he yelled as Hermione began to turn her wrist again to initiate the spell. “If I were a threat, do you think I’d come here and reveal that I know you’re actually in love with Granger and have been all fucking year!?”
Draco waved at Hermione for her to not do the memory charm yet. She pursed her lips in slight annoyance but nodded as Draco spoke again.
“When we were eight years old, we found a secret corridor in my house. Where was it?” he demanded.
“What in the bloody hell does that have to do with-” Theo began angrily, but Draco crouched down and glared at him.
“Answer the fucking question or she scrambles your brain,” Draco threatened with a nod at Hermione who never once lowered her wand.
Theo looked at Hermione and then back at Draco. “We didn’t find it…you tripped over your own two feet and stumbled through a false wall next to a portrait of one of your loony relatives holding a niffler,” he said.
“Well, it’s you,” Draco said.
“Of course it’s fucking me,” Theo snapped back.
“How did you get my mirror?” Draco asked severely.
“I came out of the dorm to find Crabbe and Goyle with it in the common room. I took it from them,” he answered readily.
Draco pocketed the mirror into his robes. “How did you know to find me here? What do you think you know about Granger and me?”
“Could you please unbind me before the rest of the inquisition,” Theo asked, a slightly desperate edge to his voice. “This is really terribly uncomfortable.”
Draco pursed his lips in contemplation and then, after reaching forward to pluck Theo’s wand from his robe pocket, nodded at Hermione. She flicked her wand and sent Theo into a sitting position some feet in front of them and then released the body bind spell.
“Thank you,” Theo sighed in genuine relief as he settled himself into a more comfortable position. He looked at the other two both staring at him with wands ready, waiting for answers. He shook his head slightly. “You don’t need to be afraid of me. I’d have outed the two of you long ago if I were an enemy. There was no mistaking the feelings rolling off you at the Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts,” he said, tilting his head in Draco’s direction.
Draco and Hermione both narrowed their eyes at him and he sighed again.
“I’m an empath, Drake,” Theo said quietly. “You can pretend you’re not afraid and not entirely mad for this one,” he pointed at Hermione, “but you can’t hide the energy of your emotions. I see them clear as day.”
“You lie,” Hermione challenged.
Theo shook his head. “I wish I were.”
Draco stared at his friend in fearful awe. “You can’t be…”
Theo gave him a sad smile. “Did you not ever wonder why I stopped hanging with you when we first came to school?” he asked. “It’s because I couldn’t take the constant barrage of hateful emotions flowing off of your two cronies. Crabbe and Goyle were never loyal because they liked you…they were loyal because you allowed them the opportunity to dole out the bullying that got them off…”
“Fuck you!” Draco yelled.
“And your self-loathing was almost enough to choke me…especially when you’d compare yourself to Potter…or this one,” Theo motioned to Hermione again. “It was too exhausting. So I distanced myself.”
Draco pointed Theo’s own wand at him. “I almost believed you just now…until you slipped up. I’m still rather full of self-loathing, you see…”
“Yes, but an entirely different kind,” Theo said holding up his left arm to point to where a Dark Mark might go. “You only hate what you had to become. But I can feel your regret and longing for freedom.”
Draco’s hand shook slightly as he pointed the wand with more emphasize and Theo sighed again.
“You really ought not to feel quite so betrayed…”
“You’ve lied to me our whole lives,” Draco spat.
“Not even my fucking father knows!” Theo yelled back. “My skill is not exactly one I advertise having. You know what happens to people like me when we’re discovered!”
“Then why tell us?” Hermione chimed in, moving to stand directly beside Draco.
Theo shrugged. “I figured that if we’re going to help each other, I might as well make things fair and exchange a life-threatening secret since I already know yours.”
Hermione rose a brow. “Help each other?”
Theo pushed up from the floor to stand. “To take down the Dark Lord,” he said frankly, smoothing out his robes. “It’s what we all want, right?”
Hermione and Draco looked at each other again and Theo chuckled.
“You two really don’t need to be so afraid of me. I’ve been wanting to approach you about this for some time, but couldn’t find the right moment. Seeing you in that mirror finally gave me the confirmation I needed. Let me help.”
Draco’s expression twisted in deep contemplation. He went to shake his head and Theo interrupted him. “Let me help,” he insisted again. “That bastard is the reason our fathers are in prison. He as good as killed my mother. You can’t expect to defeat him with Potter’s help alone.”
“No one said anything about Potter helping,” Draco said. Theo rolled his eyes.
“Who’s lying to who now,” he said. “I know that Potter knows about you two…he must be helping.”
“He saw Gin in the mirror too,” Hermione whispered at Draco in explanation without thinking. The blood drained out of her face as she immediately realized her slip, but it was too late.
Theo’s brow furrowed. “Gin? Whoa…that’s one hell of a spike of emotions you’re throwing off. What the hell is going on? What’s happening with Potter?”
“I appreciate what you’re offering, mate,” Draco said sincerely yet with a tinge of reluctance, “but if you knew exactly what’s at stake right now, you’d make the same choice as me… I’m sorry.” He looked to Hermione. “Obliviate him.”
“But…” Theo began to protest. He trailed off as he read his friend’s emotions and then nodded slowly.
“I’ll remember what you said here,” Draco promised. “If ever we need help, you’ll be the first one I go to.”
“I’ll always have your back,” Theo smiled.
“Just one more question,” Draco said, holding his hand up to stall Hermione once more. “How did you find us here?”
Theo shrugged. “I just followed your mirror.”
“No one else knows we’re here?” Hermione verified. Theo shook his head.
“I didn’t tell anyone. I came by myself. If anyone else knows, it wasn’t me who told them. I’d wager that your cozy little space here is still safe.”
Draco let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He gave his friend a small smile. “Thank you,” he said.
Theo nodded. “Best get on with it then. This one’s getting anxious about being late to class,” he smirked at Hermione.
Draco couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at that but had no time to say anything more as Hermione finally whispered the spell.
“Obliviate.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
A/N: Hello! Oh, how I've missed you all. Finally, after a year-long hiatus, I'm back! It feels really good to be writing again, but I must admit I feel a bit rusty as well. I hope this chapter didn't disappoint.
A big thank you to Sherlocked17 for recommending the song. I know the scene wasn't quite what you suggested, but I hope you still liked how it played with the song. ;)
And thank you to all of you who are still reading and reviewing!! I write all of this for you.
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Songs of Regret