The corner of his mouth twitched. "I'm supposed to keep you calm, and I don't trust you, even without magic." His voice tightened. "The last time I was honest with you, you disappeared and never came back."
She flinched and her breathing stalled again. "I tried to come back," she forced the words out. "I tried — I tried to — tried—"
His hold tightened. "Breathe. Breathe. You don't have to tell me, I know. I read the report. You levelled half of Sussex and killed nearly everyone inside the wards. You wiped out almost the entire Dementor population in Great Britain. You killed fifteen werewolves, twenty vampires, and half dozen hags. After you lost your wand, you killed another werewolf, hag, and stabbed Montague twice before he managed to stun you. I know you tried."
"Then — you have to try too."
"Granger, I have tried. This is the best I can do." He sighed. "We have a long goodbye in front of us now — I don't want to fight you through it."
She shook her head. "Let me try to find another way. I can — research. Maybe I can find a way to get your Dark Mark off. Please — let me try."
Draco paused for several seconds and stared at her. After a moment he nodded resignedly. "I'll provide you with what you want for research under two conditions: One, if your panic attacks increase because of it, you'll stop, and two, when Severus arrives, regardless of how close you may think you are to a breakthrough, you will stop and leave without making me force you. You won't try to trick me or manipulate me, you will say goodbye and go."
He stared at her, his eyes intent and exacting as he spoke. "Agreed?"
Hermione pressed her lips together and swallowed. "I promise," she finally said.
She reached out and her fingertips traced lightly along his face. She watched his eyes turn from quicksilver to grey before he looked down, pressing his jaw against her hand
"Don't lie to me anymore, Draco." Her voice was pleading and she drew him closer and pressed her forehead against his, breathing him in, feeling him close to her again. "Please don't lie to me."
He gave another hollow laugh. "I won't."
Chapter End Notes
Additional Illustrations
Don't Die Draco by samadiw_draws.
He let himself disappear by driareel.
Chapter 66
June 2005
Draco stood, withdrawing his hands and walking back until he was nearly five feet away. Fully out of arm's reach.
He suddenly seemed uncertain, as though he no longer knew how to interact with her. His hands at his sides opened and closed while he hesitated and looked away from her.
The grief and pain between had reasserted itself, sweeping in like a tidal wave. It hurt to look at him, to want him, to crave him as though he were oxygen, but not know how they'd ever reconcile everything that existed between them now.
“You should sleep,” he said after a moment, glancing down and straightening his robes. “I'll bring whatever books you want tomorrow.”
Hermione watched him, hesitating and drawing a quick breath.
“Do you want to stay?” She forced the question out before she could reconsider it.
Draco stared at her with his expression blank, and her heart began pounding painfully in her chest.
His eyes unfocused and then cleared.
“You don't want me to,” he said after studying her for a second longer, his mouth twisting in the corner. “Don't try to force yourself into something because you feel obliged in some way.”
He turned on his heel and headed towards the door.
“No,” she said, standing up, her voice sharp. “Don't go.”
He froze.
She swallowed, throat tightening. “I want you to stay. I do. It's just — sometimes — sometimes—” She tripped over the words as she tried to explain. “My memories are out of order — I can't always remember—” She swallowed. “Stay. I want you to. I don't want to be alone.”
She stepped carefully towards him. “Will you?”
Her fingers were trembling as they brushed against the back of his hand. She was half-braced that he might jerk back or shove her away. She swallowed and edged closer, studying his face. His expression was a mask.
She looked down and slipped her fingers into his hand. She was hardly breathing, and her hand started shaking visibly.
This would be fine. Just breathe and it would be fine.
Obedient.
Quiet.
Not to resist.
She closed her eyes and drew a short, quick breath. The sound filled her ears.
“Hermione,” Draco's voice made her eyes snap open as she looked up. He was staring down at her with a closed expression. “Don't do this.”
He carefully took hold of her wrist and pulled his hand free of hers, fingers tightening for a moment. “I'll come see you tomorrow.”
“No.” She grasped his hand again. “No. Don't go. I don't want you to go. I just — I just—” her jaw trembled so much she struggled to speak. “I don't—” she swallowed and looked up at him. “I only want to hold your hand. I don't want to — I can't say no if you — because of the—”
Draco's eyes flickered, and his hand in hers twitched away.
She stared down at their hands, her hold tightening. “Just stay,” she said, inhaling sharply. “I want to know you're not — somewhere else.”
Hermione's heart racing until the blood roared in her ears, but she squared her shoulders and forced herself to walk towards her bed.
It crossed her mind that maybe she should have agreed to a different room. Then it wouldn't be the same bed.
She steeled herself, pushing the thought away. It would still be a bed. She'd still be lying on it and trusting him not to hurt her.
She trusted him. She knew she trusted him. Always.
She laid down on the far side of the bed and curled on her side, staring at him. He sat down slowly on the other side and looked so uncomfortable he seemed on the verge of apparating straight out of the room. She reached towards him.
His fingers twitched before he extended his hand and entwined their fingers.
He leaned against the headboard. He didn't appear to have any intention of sleeping. She studied him, tracing her eyes over his face, trying to memorise him again.
The more clearly she remembered him, the more overtly she could see the ways he'd changed. He looked spent, visibly ground down to the point that it showed in his features.
His fingers twitched in her hand.
He had tremors that didn't feel like typical cruciatus muscle damage. They felt psychosomatic; the long-term consequence of cruciatus. Torture had been so overused on him that the effects had become permanent.
Voldemort had punished him repeatedly for his failure in catching the last Order member; the person responsible for destroying the locket Umbridge had worn.
Hermione's throat closed and she gripped his hand tighter. “You—” her voice caught. “You destroyed the horcrux the way you did because you hoped it would force Voldemort to still recall Severus in February. Didn't you?”
He stared at her and then glanced away, moving his chin slightly in acknowledgment.
There was a hollow sensation in her chest as she thought back on all the occasions she'd noticed he'd been tortured. All those times she told herself not to care, that he deserved it.
Daily, for over a month.
“I am so sorry, Draco,” she said.
He stiffened as though the words had struck him and nearly jerked his hand away from her.