Inevitable Lovers

Chapter 14:

The Second of January, a Saturday, signified the end of the winter term and the return journey to Hogwarts; for those who had left the castle for Christmas. The new year brought with it slightly longer days, but no change in the bitter weather conditions - and the prospect of the second Quidditch match of the year, Gryffindor against Slytherin. Many of the older students were also conscious of the inevitable increase in homework and revision, as the seventh years were required to sit a set of mock NEWTs this term, in practise for the real exams.

The train approached Hogsmeade Station, grinding slowly to a halt. Draco stepped swiftly off ahead of the other Slytherins, relieved to be back to familiarity; comfort, even. The last few days at the manor had been painstaking, mainly because Lucius had given Draco yet another lecture on "the importance of employing the Dark Arts", on what he clearly intended a daily basis, it seemed, and following, an uglier threat concerning Pansy Parkinson, which had left him with feelings of great trepidation.

After piling off the train, students milled noisily around the platform on all sides, laughing and playing with the thick snow that now covered the ground. In irritation, Draco tried to push through a group of excitable first-years, without success.

'Oi, I'm Head-Boy, will you shove off?' he finally snapped, actually seizing the nearest freckle-faced one by the collar.

The little group scattered. Draco smirked. Stupid kids. I- PELT.

The thought was cut off abruptly. Recoiling, Draco slowly put a hand to the back of his neck, as a handful of freezing snow slid excruciatingly down his back, and into his robes. Eyes narrowed, he turned. There were plenty of silly kids running around, but he could clearly see Potter's head over the top of them, and his smug grin. Wanker. Just before he retaliated in utter temper, Hermione's face popped up behind Potter, smiling mischievously, before they sauntered off. At this, Draco's grimace faded. He'd no idea Hermione could aim that well, but unfortunately for Potter, he would always be the better shot. He hurled his snowball with perfect accuracy, watching in satisfaction as it collided with Potter's retreating head.

Now noticing that Pansy and the other Slytherins were advancing towards him, Draco quickly ducked into the nearest golden carriage stationed nearby for the short trip back to Hogwarts, intending to take the shortcuts that led up to his tower. Damn. Seated inside were the first years he had just forcefully reprimanded, the freckled, up-turned nosed one who was grinning widely.

'Oh look everyone, it's the Head-Boy, all alone!' he said in a voice that hadn't even broken yet, and they all laughed. Draco rolled his eyes, wondering why it was that first years seemed to get more full of it every year.

***

Inside Hogwarts, people were starting to walk back to their dormitories. Hermione fell a step behind Harry and Ron, who were immersed in a conversation about Quidditch. Trooping up a long flight of stairs, which decided to suddenly swing forward, Hermione let her thoughts wander privately, to Draco Malfoy. She couldn't suppress a smile at the warm feeling she got at thinking of him, even though she knew she was being soppy.

Once at the Gryffindor Tower, Hermione parted from the rest, intending to catch up with them later. Although she quickly hurried to her own tower, Draco wasn't there. She put her belongings away in disappointment, before catching sight of a note tacked over the fireplace with Spellotape.

Meet me in the old Muggle Studies classroom.

Dracoxx

Okay, Hermione thought bemusedly, and exited. This Muggle Studies classroom was rarely, if ever, used, as it was so out of the way from most other classrooms, so of inconvenience to most students. But Hermione arrived to find Draco already leaning against one of the dusty wooden desks at the back, waiting. A ray of clear, cold sunlight shone through the window directly onto his head, so his hair was illuminated white blond; a strangely angelic effect. Hermione paused as he smiled.

'Hello,' she practically squeaked at last, walking timidly past more desks towards him.

'Hi,' said Draco.

'I-I missed you,' said Hermione hesitantly.

'I missed you too.' She stood beside him now, and Draco took her hands smoothly in his.

'Nice throw earlier,' he said nonchalantly, and Hermione laughed softly.

'It was a charm, actually. I'll teach you sometime.' Regaining her confidence, she gingerly pulled herself up onto the desk behind them, with Draco fitting between her thighs.

'Feels like it's been ages,' said Draco, leaning forward as they were now matched mouth-to-mouth, and laying his lips gently on hers. He gave a slight moan as they pulled away, and the slight tension had evaporated.

'So how was your holiday?' asked Hermione. 'I had a feeling it didn't go so well, because of your letter, but I didn't really understand...'

'Well, thanks for replying and everything. I think that letter was a bit weird, to say the least.'

'Of course I was going to reply! I didn't like thinking you were having a bad time, because it was great at the Weasleys'.'

'That's probably debatable.' He couldn't resist.

She frowned, but changed the subject. 'Anyway, how was the manor? Did Pansy go to the ball?'

'Oh God. It was terrible; you have no idea. My father, he's ordered me to do all these things, and...' He sighed. 'My mother, she's so oppressed there, but no one argues with Lucius, he's such a...a...' he broke off. 'The ball was the same as usual; shit boring really. But then, a "guest" turned up.'

'A - guest?'

Draco paused, and then blurted out; 'look, it was bloody Voldemort.' He looked sick.

'Voldemort?' Hermione asked in a hushed voice, putting a sudden hand to her mouth. 'I can't believe it! But your father, did he-'

'He didn't talk to me about initiation then,' Draco cut in bluntly. 'Actually, it sort of was because of Pansy. Although she's a part of my fucking problem.' Hermione raised her eyebrows. 'I can't stand her, any of them. I hate Lucius, and the manor, it's so empty and depressing. I hate it there.'

Not knowing what to say, Hermione drew Draco into a sudden embrace. She couldn't explain the rush of love she felt for him, wanting to cast away all of his problems. Draco leaned back for another kiss, but quick as lightning; Hermione cast Colloportus on the closed door of the classroom over his shoulder, before giving in. This time, the kiss was deeper and searing, and Hermione opened her mouth as Draco sought entrance. After a few minutes, Draco was breathing rather heavily, and as they broke off, she noticed his cheeks were flushed with a youthful glow. She tightened her thighs around him.

Draco revelled in the touch, in the want. It was what he needed, after a fortnight without kisses, or love, or even lust. Hermione seemed, at that moment, to represent all these things, in a way that Pansy, or any of his other girlfriends never had. It was a feeling that made him want to groan in desire and have sex like there was no tomorrow, but there were boundaries. There were always boundaries...

On the other hand, Hermione wanted to talk, to find out more about what had happened, but Draco's kisses were becoming very insistent and intoxicating. The same kind of passion that had been alive on the night they had shared before Christmas was soon apparent. There was something darkly sexy about stolen kisses in an empty classroom, something that made her unable to resist clutching his green Slytherin tie, as she was surrounded by the essence of Draco Malfoy. His lips pressed on hers, down to her throat, and up again.

'Yes...' Draco said, after a few minutes more, breathing deeply. 'I want to...'

'I know what you want,' said Hermione a short while later, studying those intriguing blue-grey eyes; acknowledging his arousal. 'There is no way I'm doing that in here...'

'Come on Hermione, there's no one here. Sometimes you just have to be...' he considered.

'Ravished?' Hermione finished sardonically.

'Well, if you want to put it like that...Face it, every room in the castle has probably been "christened" by now. I bet even Dumbledore's office...'

'Draco - you - that's disgusting!' Hermione whispered, blushing. 'No, we cannot. Saying that, I expect Ginny would admire me if she knew I had...hmm. But, we're supposed to be honourable, respectable exemplars to the school,' she concluded self-righteously.

'You didn't say that before Christmas,' Draco said, causing her blush to deepen.

Hermione loosened her grip on Draco slightly then, parting with a wet, lingering kiss. 'I swear to God you're corrupting me, Draco,' she murmured, staring into his eyes. 'But, anyway, you haven't told me what happened with Pansy yet. Tell me now.'

Draco swallowed, brushing a strand of hair from his face. 'Fine. But, you're not exactly going to like this. Well, when I was younger, my father always used to say to me, that if I didn't "get on well" at Hogwarts, he'd ship me straight off to Durmstrang, which was a better school anyway. I doubt that would happen now, seeing as I am actually in my last year. Anyway, the arrangement was, apparently, that after "courting" Pansy mainly during Hogwarts, we could get engaged, without any problems, when we left.'

Hermione felt a kind of chill run through her, and an awful dread settled in her stomach.

'Engaged?' she finally said incredulously. 'You're going to be engaged to her?' Her voice seemed to resound in the empty room, sounding shrill and unnatural.

'I've always known about it,' he said in indifferent response; then registering her expression, 'look, read this, I think you'll find it's explained quite plainly.' Draco slid a folded piece of parchment from his top pocket and handed it to her. It read, in fancy, slanted lettering:

Dear Draco,

I am writing you this letter, as I am aware that you are likely to forget my preferences for the way you conduct yourself between now and the end of your career at Hogwarts. As I have clearly elucidated, there are considerations for you other than yourself at this point in time, as ever there have been. I remind you Draco, that you are not playing games with Miss Parkinson; I would not normally concern myself with the frivolous affairs of adolescents, aside from the fact that your engagement to Pansy means a tangible tie between two of the most prominent names of the Wizarding community. Because of this, there is no real choice in the matter, you and Pansy being only children and therefore the next generation to extend these names. Again, I stress that, with the Malfoys and Parkinsons united, we will have more influence than ever over critical decisions that are yet to be made by the forerunners in Wizarding authority. This in turn will place us in a better position to assist the Dark Lord, who I am sure will appreciate your efforts.

Therefore, nothing I have ever requested you do has changed, Draco. You will continue to court Pansy, and your betrothal is imminent after this year. I see your removal to Durmstrang Institute is no longer a viable option, but your disinheritance from the Malfoy name certainly is. If you wish to risk this, which of course is a last measure of mine to match any unwanted defiance, be my guest, although I assure you it will get you nowhere. Just remember the comforts and luxuries of the Malfoy Manor.

Furthermore, you are, and always will be, my son and heir, so I would like to give you the benefit of the doubt, and put your recent attitudes behind us all. Remember, Draco, I have informants at Hogwarts. Please behave yourself.

Regards,

Your father, Lucius. Your mother sends her best.

Silently, Hermione folded the letter back up and handed it to Draco.

'He gave this to me just before I left,' Draco said flatly. 'Pansy must have said something to him; I can't bear to look at her now. She's ruined everything. You know, I even caught her having sex with Theodore Nott a while ago, down in the dungeons. She's vile.'

'I can't believe this,' said Hermione in a measured voice.

'I know, I don't know what I'm going to do about it myself yet. His girlfriend, Blaise Zabini, is kind of a friend, so-'

'I meant about the engagement,' Hermione interjected. 'But - why can't you just tell your father about what Pansy did, then he might call this off.'

'That won't work,' said Draco dully. 'He'll just say that it's my fault because I've been ignoring Pansy, and that I've had girlfriends other than her too. He's got an answer for everything.'

Seems like you have, too, thought Hermione. 'It's not going to work then, is it,' she stated.

'Of course it isn't going to work, I won't let it,' said Draco a little more enthusiastically, retaking her hands in his.

Hermione shook her head. 'No, what I mean is, this, what we have, it's not going to work. Not with this betrothal hanging over your head.'

'Hermione, don't say that,' said Draco. 'I'll make it work, I won't see Pansy at all. I promise.'

Hermione almost laughed in disbelief of his naÏvety. 'Draco unless you really do defy Lucius Malfoy, which I really don't think is going to happen somehow, this isn't going to work. It may not seem like it now, but I know that you will eventually lose yourself to her. And one day, she'll seem as good for you as me.' She looked down. 'I can't do it Draco. I can't watch you being with her - pretending or not - while we're supposed to be together. I love you too much.'

Seemingly lost for words, Draco didn't speak. Then; 'Hermione, please-' he began, but she looked up at him, and her eyes, large and dark with resolve, silenced him. A single tear trickled down her face.

'This is your future,' were the last broken words, before, after putting a hand to his face for a soft instant, she gently detached her hands from his and left the room.

***

After muttering the counter charm for the sealed door, Hermione walked purposely away from the Muggle Studies classroom, not wanting to feel or think. The corridor was gloomy even in the mid-afternoon, intensifying the swell of misery inside her that she was determined not to let loose, and she shuddered. Hermione quickly put as much space between her and the classroom as she could, climbing a small staircase where a red-faced wizard in a single portrait of turned towards the sound of her footsteps, and then two more.

This far up in the castle, it transpired, was very quiet, although Hermione could clearly hear voices below. Taking a calming breath, and leaning over the banister, she saw there were many students congregated below. Perhaps too many. It appeared there was some sort of gathering a couple of floors down. In the centre of a rough circle of onlookers stood what looked like three fifth or sixth years, and one was holding was distinctly a Weasleys' Wild Fire Whiz-Bang firework and a lit wand.

'Stop!' Hermione then cried on impulse, quickly running down to their floor two steps at a time and pushing through a few people in the crowd. 'Put that down!'

She now saw that the troublemakers were Hufflepuff Zacharias Smith and friends.

'Put it down, put it down, I'm so scared,' said one of Zacharias' friends. 'The nasty Prefect might hex us if we don't!'

'I'm not a Prefect, I'm Head Gi-' Hermione began, but a sudden sob choked her. Several people began to laugh and jeer, before an older voice suddenly spoke over them.

'You three, put that firework down this instant, and all of you clear off. I'm confiscating that right now!' Zacharias Smith and most of the other spectators wandered nonchalantly away, but Hermione stayed where she was as Professor Tuppy walked towards her, robes billowing slightly and a concerned expression on her now middle-aged face.

'Hermione? What's the matter?' she asked, and Hermione sniffled. 'Why don't you come to my office, I'll make you some tea.'

She nodded, trying to pull herself together, and followed Tonks, who had seized the unlit firework, down the corridor, through a small passage and up some stairs into her office.

Now it was properly lit, the room looked a lot more cheerful than when Hermione had last been there. A few lamps burned merrily, illuminating things she hadn't noticed before. On one shelf lay some dully glowing ruby-red and emerald coloured crystals, and on a small table she noticed what had to be a lunascope. Tonks' desk looked pretty much the same, although a lot more disorganised than Hermione would have had it, and a mug bearing The Weird Sisters legend sat upon it. A broomstick, the model of which she didn't recognise, was propped up at an angle in the corner.

Tonks sat down and drew Hermione another chair with her wand. She selected another cup for Hermione, muttered an incantation while giving the wand a wave, causing steaming tea to flow into both mugs, and a few drops to spill onto the table.

'So,' said Tonks in a friendly tone that did not suit her current appearance. 'What's happened? I've never known you to get so upset.'

Hermione looked down, slightly regretting her choice to come. 'It's just...' she began, and looked up.

Tonks narrowed her eyes then, and a second later, she had unexpectedly transformed into the petite, pretty young woman, with the same spiky, though a little longer, hair that Hermione remembered well. She now sat cross-legged on the chair.

'Perhaps you'd rather talk to a friend than a stuffy old teacher,' said Tonks brightly. 'Best not to mention that to anyone, it'd blow my cover a bit, don't you think?' She grinned.

Hermione smiled delicately. 'Yes, it rather would. Thanks for the tea.' She sipped, choosing her next words carefully. 'I didn't mean to get upset, Tonks, and I can't really tell you what happened at all, really.'

'Oh, to be a teenager again,' said Tonks lightly. 'Forever keeping secrets, forever hiding things, can be quite fun. I'm inclined to think this is some sort of "boy-trouble", because I can't imagine you wanting to talk to me over Harry and Ron otherwise!'

Considering this rather shrewd, Hermione said; 'I suppose it is that, yes. I'm the one usually advising other people about their love-lives, but now I feel like I've made some sort of mistake because someone I...really like, has let me down.'

'Well, I personally love a girls' heart-to-heart, and I know what schoolboys can be like!' replied Tonks. 'When I was in a bit younger than you were, I really liked someone special, but it fizzled out, unfortunately. I was devastated at the time, but I can't imagine getting together with him now!'

'Who was it?' asked Hermione interestedly.

'Oh, you tell me yours and I'll tell you mine,' said Tonks jokingly. 'Actually, it was Bill Weasley.' She smiled in reminiscence. 'All the girls liked him, but I think he thought I was interesting because of the metamorphmagus thing. I was in my element at the school ball, I remember! I sneakily changed my appearance so I looked a bit more sophisticated; a bit naughty really, and that's when we started going out, even though he was two years older. I wonder what he's up to now...'

Hermione was reminded of Fleur Delacour, Bill's apparent latest love interest, but did not digress. 'I suppose he is quite handsome,' she said, 'but I don't really like his long hair.'

'Oh, I did,' said Tonks. 'That's what made him so cool.' She laughed. 'So you see? Everyone's had his or her heart broken before, and it might seem like a big thing now, but come next week you'll have forgotten all about him. I just hope he's a nice boy, because I think you're a nice girl, Hermione.'

Hermione wondered if Tonks would be very shocked if she knew the "nice boy" was Draco Malfoy, but didn't want find out. She took a last swallow of tea. 'Thanks Tonks. You're right, it is a bit of a secret, but I'll remember what you said. I should go and see Harry and Ron now, they'll be wondering where I've got to.'

'Anytime,' said Tonks conversationally, and with a brief look of intense concentration, transformed back into Professor Tuppy. 'Not a word about this, though! And I'll keep your secret as well.'

'Of course,' said Hermione. 'See you soon.'

Hermione left the office before Tonks, soon mingling amongst the students strolling about the castle on a late Saturday afternoon. During the conversation, she had been somewhat diverted from the raw feelings of upset that had flooded over her, and a leaden feeling was starting to settle uncomfortably in her stomach as she recalled her own incredulity about the engagement, and Lucius' discordant letter. What on earth am I going to do? Hermione thought. She did not really want to face anyone. She thought of herself sitting in a corner somewhere, wracked with choking sobs, like someone in a dramatic Muggle film, and felt sick. Since when am I the romantic type? She was walking, not on a particular path, but just up stairs, and down, aimlessly. I shouldn't have walked away, she thought numbly. I bet he's already with Pansy, I bet she's loving it. Oh my, I really shouldn't have left. I'm surprised he even looked twice at me, he won't take me back now. So maybe this is the way it's supposed to be, the pureblood gets the handsome Prince Charming and the exquisite lifestyle and the privileged children, and the lower people (she could not bring herself to think "Mudblood") don't stand a chance. But he was mine, first he was mine, and that doesn't seem to count for anything.

The words from a verse of one of her favourite Muggle songs flitted through Hermione's head.

Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place

Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace

Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste

It all revolves around you

And there's no mountain too high

No river too wide

Sing out this song I'll be there by your side

Storm clouds may gather

And stars may collide

But I love you until the end of time

Arriving at the Entrance Hall, Hermione thought perhaps she was going to cry after all, and slipped quietly out into the vast, empty, snow-covered grounds of the castle before the tears fell.