On Storm Tossed Seas

Chapter 15: Revelations

The metallic clang of a cauldron hitting the stone floor caused Snape to snap his head up. He watched in silence as Draco cursed under his breath and bent down to grab the offending pot before going back to scrubbing. Snape heaved a sigh, put down his quill, and walked over to the cauldron stacked corner of the potions classroom. He studied the tension in Draco's shoulders for a moment before speaking.

"Problems, Mr. Malfoy?" he asked, taking a seat in a chair.

Draco looked up upon hearing the Potion Master's voice and shook his head silently, quickly looking back and focusing on the stubborn grit in the bottom of the cauldron. Snape watched him in silence again. He could sense the anger and confusion in the young wizard before him. It tore at him for a long moment before he finally, though hesitantly, pulled up his sleeve, exposing his Dark Mark. He waited until Draco looked up and watched as the young wizard's eyes traced over the mark before meeting his eyes.

"Trust me, Mr. Malfoy, I understand what you deal with at home."

Draco put down his scrub brush and the cauldron and took a seat in the chair across from the Professor.

"You're a Death Eater." It was not a question. Draco had harbored suspicions that Snape was one; that it was confirmed gave him mixed feelings.

"In name, yes." Snape continued to keep his eyes focused on the boy. He kept the memory of what Dumbledore had confided in the foreground of his mind. If Draco had been lying - lying about the horrors of home; lying about his desire to not follow his father's path - but Snape pushed that to the side. He'd faced many dangers and knew that, at some point, his espionage would be discovered.

Draco looked a bit confused. "In name, sir?"

"In other words, Draco, I'm not truly on the side of Voldemort."

Draco sat back in his chair and flicked his eyes to look at the still present Dark Mark on his potion instructor's arm before connecting his eyes with Snape's again. For the first time in his young life he felt a sense of hope, but the feeling was gone in a heartbeat, almost before he knew it was there.

"Sir, why are you sharing this with me?"

"Draco, let's not pretend here. We both know that your father is a Death Eater. We also both know that he aspires for you to follow in his steps. Am I not right?" He cocked a brow over his dark eye.

Draco dropped his head into his hands and gave a mute nod. He couldn't understand what was so difficult about hearing the truth about his father, but it was causing him to feel ill.

Snape sat in silence, watching the young wizard before him. Suddenly he knew that he'd do what it took to help this boy; do what no one did for him when he was young and impressionable. In a very uncharacteristic move, Snape leaned forward and gripped Draco's shoulders in his strong grasp. He waited until the boy finally lifted his head and the two wizards looked into each other's eyes, a silent understanding passed between them.

Abruptly, Snape released his grip and stood. "Now, if memory serves me right, you have some cauldrons to finish before your day is up." He moved back to his desk and continued his grading as Draco turned back to his discarded cauldron.

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

The corridors were empty as Draco made his way back to his dorm to get his astronomy tools. His mind, however, was far from empty. Snape and he had spoken for a few more minutes at the end of the evening. Draco's mind played the words of the Professor over and over again. He wanted to help. That's what he had said. Help. Draco couldn't recall ever having someone, besides Granger, no, Hermione, offer to help him. The glimmer of hope he'd experienced early came to the foreground in a blinding hit.

He stopped, mid-stride, in the corridor as the reality of what Snape's offer could mean. He could get away from his father. He no longer needed to follow the path of destruction that had been forced on him. He felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He could be his own man. There would be no more muggle tortures, no more death. He--no. As one remembers a dream Draco suddenly recalled his father's words.

'My son, I sense your reluctance to join us. Please, take care that you do not do anything that would ultimately cause considerable pain to your mother.'

His shoulders slumped and he immediately regretted his openness with the Professor. His father was not one of Lord Voldemort's best because he was stupid. He was a brilliant man, albeit evil. Draco dropped some curses as he realized that what had just occurred could spell unimaginable pain for his mother. As he stood, he suddenly felt arms wrap around him from behind. He grabbed one arm and yanked the person around to face him. His eyes narrowed as he saw the face and his hands gripped the upper arms of the person, pulling them close.

"What the hell do you want?"

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

Hermione descended the staircase from her dorm, her bag slung over her shoulder. Harry and Ron were sitting below playing a game of exploding snap with George and Fred. She began to walk past them.

"Off to meet the Ferret again? You know, Hermione, you have too much trust in him."

Hermione spun around, her eyes flashing, to see George and Fred glaring at Ron and Harry giving him a look of warning. The week since the Quidditch match had been agonizing for her. She continually regretted not following her first impulse and continuing after Draco went he'd left the infirmary. Their nightly vigil in the Astronomy Tower had resumed its eerie dance filled with all the surreptitious glances and unspoken regrets.

"Ron, I have no desire to go over this with you again. You know I have no choice but to meet him every night for class."

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione gave him no chance as she turned and flounced from the common room. Once she reached the corridor the ache in her heart became almost too much to bear. She took a deep breath and forced herself to take the painful steps to the tower, her eyes misting up as she did so. Suddenly she didn't want to wait to see him. She wanted to get it over with now.

She spun on her heel and headed as quickly as she could towards the dungeons. Her mind went over what she would say to him. She wanted to make sure that he knew he'd hurt her, but that she understood why he'd done it. They hadn't talked about the incident at the game--of course, they'd not talked about much else either--but Hermione knew that saving Harry had wounded his pride deeply. He had simply lashed out at her as a way to soothe his pride. She knew this. She was smart enough to know it hadn't been personal. Yet, her own pride had gotten in the way. Once again, she silently cursed herself for not going after him that night.

She rounded the last corner and saw Draco up ahead, his head bent. A smile tugged at her lips as she paused for a moment to study his well-built frame. He'd changed so much in stature since their first year at the school, developing the taut muscles of a Quidditch player. She shook her head to clear it of old memories and began to move across the distance to him when she saw someone else with him. She froze.

She could recognize that jet-black hair anywhere. Her eyes narrowed as she watched Pansy smile up at Draco. Her blood rushed hard through her veins as she watched Draco's head lower towards Pansy's. She couldn't watch anymore. Stifling a gasp, she turned and fled to the tower.

Pansy's eyes lit up as she glanced past Draco's shoulder and watched the mudblood fleeing. She pulled away from Draco's grip, a smirk on her face.

"Want? Whatever do you mean, Draco, darling?" she purred, running a finger slowly down the contour of his cheek.

He grabbed her wrist in his hand and glared at her. "Pansy, whatever scheme you're playing at, drop it, now."

She continued to smirk, arching a brow over her eye. "Scheme? Oh, come on, Draco. What scheme would I possibly be playing. You, on the other hand, what is your scheme? You didn't save Potter out of the goodness of your heart. Or does that little mudblood and her feelings actually mean something to you?"

She didn't wait for his answer as she pushed a hand into his hair and pulled his lips down to meet hers. She gently, yet insistently, parted his lips with hers and grazed her tongue along his, smirking when his arms wrapped about her waist and pulled her closer.

His mind spun. He didn't want to kiss Pansy, yet, here he was pulling her closer to him; pushing his hand into her hair to deepen the kiss. He couldn't understand why. Abruptly he pulled from her, his eyes wide as he realized that he could kiss Pansy. He stared at her.

"Yes, Draco?" she asked, her breathing hard. She reached up her hand to again trace his jaw.

"I can kiss you--" he murmured, more to himself. Without a word he spun and began to run, Pansy left standing to stare after him in complete confusion. He ignored the various portraits yelling at him to slow down, only increasing his pace. When he reached the stairs to the tower, he took them two at a time until he reached the door and slammed it open, halting in his steps when he saw Hermione at the parapet taking measurements.

She spun when the door slammed open, her eyes widening as Draco stalked across the stones, pulled her into his arms and captured her lips with his. She tried to push away but found her arms wrapping around his neck instead. Her mind screamed at her to pull back knowing that this was just going to hurt him. Before the thought clearly formed in her mind, Draco stumbled and fell to the stones. She kneeled by him quickly, her brow furrowed.

Gripping his hand in hers, she waited until he stopped grimacing in pain and gently smoothed back his hair before speaking.

"Draco, what was that for? I thought we already--"

He interrupted her, his eyes filling with a hint of understanding. "I kissed Pansy."

Hermione immediately pushed back from him, standing as quickly as she could. Tears filled her eyes and she choked back a lump in her throat. She had been right to flee. She had been right in her assessment. Pansy and Draco were about to kiss. Without waiting for him to utter another word, she fled from his sight, stumbling and tripping down the stairs. She reached the bottom and fled towards the Gryffindor common room, halting halfway there. Ron and Harry were still in there. The last thing she needed at this time was for Ron to tell her he told her so. Though the complete understanding and gentleness in Harry's eyes would be no better. For a long moment she stood in her uncertainty before turning and heading the opposite direction.

She stumbled down the corridors, turning corners and descending steps before reaching the empty classroom. She pushed the door open and shut it behind her flicking her wand out at the same moment and muttering a locking spell. She wanted, needed, to be alone. She walked across the cold classroom to the window and gazed out on the grounds. With a sinking feeling in her gut she sat, pulling up her knees and wrapping her arms around them.

"What an idiot I am!" she yelled at the empty classroom before dissolving into sobs. She couldn't believe that she'd fallen so hard for Draco. She knew better. She knew who he was; who is father was. The only thing that made any sense now was that he had some scheme planned and she was a part of it. Well, not anymore.

Lifting her head up, she rubbed at her eyes and face drying the tears. She would not let her heart be played with anymore. After all, she had more important things to worry about than Draco. The orb, still sitting in her bedside table, needed her attention. Her eyes widened at the thought. Could it be that Draco somehow knew about the orb? Could that be his reason for developing a relationship with her? He wanted the orb. With a laugh she shook her head. No, that wasn't possible. No one but the twins, Harry and Ron knew about it. None of them would possibly tell Draco about the orb.

Then, what other reason would he have? She couldn't think of a thing. She quickly ticked off in her head the actions that were not him: his night time visits in the infirmary, returning the Cloak, giving her the necklace, helping her with her astrolabe, kissing her, saving Harry. She attempted to find a common thread in each instance but was stumped. A scheme seemed highly improbable. But then, he'd done some hideous stuff as well. Calling her names, performing the Cruciatus curse on Ron, kissing Pansy. Her heart ached as she thought of him kissing Pansy; kissing anyone for that matter.

"Of course, it's not like he can kiss me," she muttered in defeat. Maybe it was better if she just called it off. She would speak with Professor Sinistra. Ask to be dismissed from the navigation team, even if it meant a dock in her grade. She couldn't afford to be around him anymore. The torment was too great.

With her new resolve she stood, ready to go back to her room. Ready to focus her energies on the orb. Just before making her way back across the room she turned and stepped back to the window, resting a palm on the cool glass. She closed her eyes and let everything in her mind go. A sense of peace enveloped her for a brief moment before she felt a pair of strong arms encircle her waist.

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

"I kissed Pansy." The words fell from his mouth before he could stop them. In shock he watched Hermione back away from him, horror filling her eyes along with her tears. He attempted to push himself up from the stone floor as she fled, but the aftermath of the pain rendered him weak. He closed his eyes and cursed himself.

"Damn it. That's not what I meant!" But, what did he mean? He tried to hunt for the words that would explain to her what he did mean. He intuitively knew that the fact that he could kiss Pansy was a good thing. He just couldn't find a way to say it just right. He could care less about her. Kissing Pansy meant less than nothing. In all actuality, he hated it. He sat up and held his pounding head as he continued to sort things out. He needed to go to Hermione. That's what he needed. If he could see her; touch her. That's what he needed. He could explain it if he could just have a few moments.

With effort he managed to stand. He took a deep breath and headed back in after collecting Hermione's bag and instruments. Sudden impulse caused him to halt as he reached the door. He bent down and took the astrolabe out of its case and carefully cleaned it, a smile on his lips as he recalled Hermione lecturing him so long ago on the proper care of navigation tools. After carefully repacking the instrument, he descended the stairs, halting at the base.

She'd be in the Gryffindor common room. She'd probably already told Potter and Weasley everything. He huffed a sigh and swallowed his pride again. He had to admit it. He loved her. That was the only thing that kept him from going back to his common room.

With determined steps he walked through the empty corridors until her reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. For long moments he stood in front of it trying to think of a password.

"Well, are you going to stare at me all day or are you going to say the password?" huffed the Fat Lady.

"Um, well, I would say the password if only I could recall it," he answered, attempting to look confident that he knew it.

The Fat Lady glanced at his robes. "The Slytherin crest? You certainly do not know the password then."

He sighed. "Yeah, okay, I don't know the password. Can you just let me in? I need to find someone. It's important."

"Find someone?"

"Yes."

"And who, may I ask, are you trying to find?"

"Hermione Granger."

"Ah, yes, Ms. Granger. A lovely lady. I can't say that I've seen her pass through. Of course, I can't say that I've not seen her pass through. After all, I'm here to protect those who live beyond."

Draco bit back his sarcasm and looked up at the Fat Lady, putting on his natural Malfoy charm. "I understand that you must protect those behind you. I'm just truly concerned about Hermione. Is there anything I can do to persua--"

She cut him off with a stern look. "You will not be able to talk your way into here, young man. Now, be off with you or I'll send word to Filch that you are attempting to get in." She turned her back on him without further ado. Draco scowled and turned to head back to his own room.

Halfway there, he decided to spend time alone in the empty classroom. Pansy would most likely be lying in wait for him back in the common room. He did not want to deal with her again tonight. Dealing with her once a year presented enough of a challenge. He reached the door and pulled on the handle, perplexed when it wouldn't budge. Sighing, he pulled out his wand and unlocked it with a quick whisper.

He pushed it open slowly and slipped in, freezing in an instant when he saw someone at the window. He carefully slid the door back into place and crept behind a bookcase until he could determine who the other person was. His patience grew thin as time passed and the other person never moved, but then again, he reminded himself, he had been known to sit at that same window unmoving for hours.

As he watched, he heard a soft voice speak and his heart ached at the words as he suddenly realized who it was. He stood, ready to move to her when she turned. He froze. For a heartbeat he could have sworn she saw him, but she abruptly turned around and placed her hand on the window. As quiet as a shadow, Draco floated across the room. He reached her, setting her bag down and wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning his head down and speaking in a soft whisper into her ear.

"But I don't want to kiss anyone else, Hermione."

Hermione pulled away from Draco and turned, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"Don't touch me!"

He nodded and locked his eyes with hers for a moment before looking away. "Hermione, let me explain, please? I--I thought we had agreed to be honest with each other. Let me be honest."

Hermione watched him for a moment before give a curt nod. "Fine. You have one minute to explain. If I'm not satisfied with where you are going, then I'm out of here, and out of your life."

He stiffened as she spoke and could feeling his pride screaming to get out. With effort he forced back his pride and spoke in a quiet voice. "Fair enough."

He sat down in the window seat and motioned for Hermione to sit. She simply folded her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at him.

"One minute. Start talking."

"First, I had no intention of kissing Pansy. I was actually on my way to get my astronomy stuff and then to come meet you. She found me in the corridor. Herm, regardless of what many believe, I hate her. I always have. She's been an annoyance since we were kids."

He sighed heavily and looked away from Hermione's intense gaze before continuing.

"She kissed me first. I'll admit, I responded, but only--," he stood, suddenly losing his composure. He didn't know why he'd responded to her kiss. The mere thought of kissing Pansy turned his stomach, and yet, he'd kissed her. It didn't really matter why. In defeat he looked back at Hermione, flinching the slightest at the look in her eyes.

Suddenly he knew that his pride was still justifying what he'd done. He had to lock it away, if he really wanted this to work.

He swallowed as he moved to her, his hand reaching up to touch her face, pulling back as he recalled that she didn't want him to touch her. His eyes locked onto hers and his voice came out in a shaky whisper.

"Hermione, it doesn't matter what happened. It doesn't matter because I now know something. I know that I love you. That doesn't excuse what happened. But, I love you. I love you desperately."

He kept his gaze on hers, his heart pounding. He wanted, more than anything, to pull her into his arms and hold her--simply hold her. No more. No less. His muscles ached as they attempted to do so, but he held himself in check.

Hermione watched him, her eyes taking in every detail of his facial expression. When his eyes locked on hers, she tried to find the scheme in them, but failed. Rather, she saw nothing but pure love; nothing but pure anguish. She tore her gaze from his, the desire to be held, not only by his eyes, but by his arms was overwhelming. But, was it worth it? That she couldn't answer. Her eyes flew back to his when he told her he loved her.

"Draco, I-I," she hesitated. She what? She loved him? Did she, really? Or was she simply showing pity for what he'd shared with her about his life. His eyes bore into hers. She could see the hope, and fear, in them. Swallowing her own fears she stepped closer to him and reached her hand up, brushing it against his cheek.

"Draco, I love you, too."

The fear in his eyes seeped away as she spoke; his arms wrapped around her, pulling her close as her fears ebbed away. She melted into his embrace and felt wonderfully complete.

"Hermione?" he whispered.

She made a noise, indicating that she'd heard him. He smiled down at the top of her head and then, reluctantly, pulled back from her. He reached down and laced his fingers through hers and moved to the window seat pulling her into his arms as he sat.

She tilted her head up to look at him, her eyes questioning.

"I spoke with Professor Snape today. I can't tell you everything, but he's offered to help me, with my father."

A smile broke over Hermione's face. "Draco, that's wonderful."

He gave her a tight lipped smile. "Yes, I would expect you to see it as such."

Furrowed brows met his gaze when he looked back down at her.

"I actually brought up his offer for another reason." Tenderly he brushed his knuckles along the soft skin of her cheek, turning the words in his head over a few times before deciding on a way to speak his mind.

"The reason I kissed Pansy," he felt her stiffen and took a deep breath before the words tumbled from him. "The reason I kissed her had nothing to do with how I feel about her. You have to understand that her and I have a history. I was upset a bit, and when she reached up to kiss me, I acted on instinct. I pulled away when I realized what I was doing.

"But," he continued, placing a finger over her lips to halt her protests, "if she hadn't kissed me, I would not have realized something of importance, besides the truth that I love you. I felt no pain when I kissed her. None." He gazed steadily into her eyes, willing her to see what he was thinking.

She swallowed her hurt and pride as she searched his gaze. The love he had for her shone brightly, that much she could see. She tore from the intensity of his gaze, her eyes seeking answers from the moonlit grounds. She shifted in his arms after a few moments of uncomfortable silence, reaching a hand up to place on his cheek.

"You think you can't kiss me because I'm a Muggleborn?" The question issued from her laced with tension. His short nod answered her. "And what does this have to do with Snape?"

"I figured we could speak to him about this. See if he has any ideas."

Hermione scoffed, turning her head to once again look at the grounds. Snape was the last person on the earth that she had any intention of speaking to about this issue. That Draco felt pain each time he kissed her had become a source of pain and doubt that she valiantly attempted to ignore. Speaking about it with anyone, besides Draco, seemed to lend it more credence than she felt it necessitated.

Feeling his eyes on her, she looked back up at him. Pleading eyes met hers. Obviously speaking to Snape was important to Draco. Hesitating for a brief moment longer, Hermione gave a curt nod.

"If it's that important to you, then I'll do it. I can't claim to be happy about it, but I'll do it."

His answering smile and tight hug melted away her concerns once more and she leaned into him, the two falling asleep, wrapped in each other's arms, and their own thoughts.