Unbidden Love Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen: Hearts So Alike...

Hermione could hardly catch her breath as the wind tossed unforgiving blasts of ocean spray onto both their helpless bodies. Soon Hermione and Draco were soaked, dripping and freezing in the damp cave they found themselves in. The cave’s rounded enclosure provided little protection from the wind, which had decided to gust in their direct location. All the elements seemed to be meeting them head-on.

Something in her mind screamed at her to stop, but Hermione found herself pulling away from Draco’s grip and limping toward the opposite side of the cave. She was sobbing now, although it was difficult to tell with the amount of water being tossed at her with ruthless force. But it was not the cold she felt now. It was the aching of her heart, the panic in her mind – she ached for Harry, longed to know what had happened to him; she ached for Ron and his comfort; but mostly she ached for…for…

She couldn’t say it. Couldn’t think it; it was too foreign a feeling. What had happened to her? To her heart? Hermione Granger had become a stranger to herself.

They stood a few feet apart, clutching their soaked garments in a futile attempt at warming themselves. Hermione could hardly make out Draco now in the rise and fall of the sea spray, but she struggled to make herself heard.

“Where t..the hell did you bring us, Malfoy? We escape death to become f..frozen by the sea?”

“Like y..you had a better idea!” Draco screamed back, his jaw shaking as fiercely as Hermione’s. “They’ll n..never find us here!”

Hermione stumbled toward him, hardly thinking now as she grabbed the front of his shirt and cried into his deathly pale face. “Why didn’t you l..let them kill me back there? Why are you s..still acting like my hero?”

Draco let out a shout of disbelief, his lips barely cooperating as he tried to smile. He shakily took Hermione’s face between his cold, dripping hands.

“I n..never thought I’d see the d..day when Hermione Granger was ignorant of s..such an obvious answer!” he belted out, laughter and cold combining to shake his entire body. He could barely hold Hermione’s face up toward his, but she clutched onto him desperately. The wind seemed to be pushing them closer together…or were they doing that themselves?

“D..don’t you realize the truth?” Draco leaned down and whispered in her ear. “I’m…I’m in love with you, Hermione.”

Hermione’s eyes widened as her mind comprehended his soft words, and her heart’s pace frantically increased as she stared up into the eyes of a man who had acquired a whole new persona. She watched his own eyes widen with fear when she failed to respond, but when he timidly tried to back away she grabbed his shirt and hauled him back into her arms.

“Draco Malfoy, you n..never cease to amaze me! Of all the m..moments to tell me…”

His face broke into the widest, purest grin she had ever seen.

“I’m not your typical man,” he replied huskily.

Hermione had just regained her normal breathing when Draco’s mouth latched eagerly onto hers. Instantly, a fire roared up within her soul. She forgot the cold, she forgot the sea spray, she forgot why she was even freezing in a small cave as she clutched onto Malfoy with all the strength and longing inside her. She opened her mouth wider to let him in, kissing him with such maddening fury she almost forgot to breathe.

So powerfully were they clutching at each other that they forgot their surroundings and tumbled over. Draco threw Hermione on top of him so that he landed on the cave floor first. His shirt tore against a jagged rock and blood oozed from his side. Hermione pushed herself up on her elbows and gazed at him with horror, but Malfoy merely grinned.

“I was just about to take that off anyway.”

Her laugh caught in her throat as Draco tore off his shirt to reveal the hard muscles of his abs and chest.

Before she could move, Draco glanced concernedly at the ocean roaring beside their small shelter. “Hurry, let’s move farther back before we die from hypothermia.”

He took her by the hand and led her far back underground. The cave went further than Hermione ever thought. Once Draco had stopped at a warmer spot, he hardly paused to catch his breath before he pulled her down and centered himself on top of her. His lips eagerly met hers again and his sweet tongue pushed itself between her teeth.

He was ghostly pale and still soaked to the core, but Hermione noticed none of that as she wrapped her arms around his neck and lost herself in the kiss.

Draco was smothering her with his weight, so she pulled back and gently pushed him over. Passion stifled her ordinary shyness and modesty as she confidently lowered herself on top of him, slowly kissing the lean contours of his abs.

Draco groaned with pleasure as she made her way downwards. Somehow, all her deepest, most secret fantasies were coming true all in one sudden, overwhelming moment.

But lying across him spread a weakening weariness through her limbs, and Hermione found herself resting her head across the smooth skin of his chest. Her body shuddered involuntarily, and she closed her eyes to block out the frightful images of that day: racing endlessly through the trees, becoming trapped by the lake, and Harry…Harry cursed in front of her. How his blood had seeped into the pure sand and…

“Shh. Don’t cry, Hermione,” came Draco’s soft, caressing voice. “Forget all that happened and sleep. I won’t let anything happen to you. Trust me.”

Her lips twitched into a small smile before sleep cast its comforting spell upon her.

Hermione awoke surrounded in warmth. It was a sensation she recognized but hadn’t experienced since her childhood. She remembered those days when she was little: it began with a fall from her bike or a tree that had scraped her small knees (a traumatic experience for a five-year-old). Her mother, ever watchful, had taken her into her arms straightaway and kissed her injuries before placing plaster over the blood. Then she would be cuddled and sung to until little Hermione didn’t remember what she had been crying about.

It was not her mother that was holding her close now, but the sensation in her heart was identical. Hermione’s eyes fluttered open to rest upon Malfoy, who was smiling down upon her.

“Sleep well?” he asked, leaning down to kiss her repeatedly on one cheek. “You slept all day.”

Hermione smiled and closed her eyes again, hardly daring to believe this was reality. Perhaps she hadn’t quite awoken from her dreams yet. No one was this lucky in the real world.

It took her awhile to notice that a thick blanket was wrapped around her body. A salty sea breeze twitched her nose and she turned her head to gaze at the gentle waves of the ocean’s shore. There was no reminder of the ferocious storm that had almost killed her and Draco the night before.

She turned to gaze into Draco’s loving eyes again. “Where did you…”

“I took a little trip this morning,” he told her. “I knew you’d be worried, so I swallowed my pride and went to see how Potter was doing.”

Hermione’s heart jumped at these words. How could she have forgotten? How could she have…

“Don’t look so horrified, Hermione,” Draco cut into her frantic thoughts. “It pains me to see your lovely face twisted like that. Potter is recovering well. Weasley got him to St. Mungo’s just in time.” His face darkened slightly, and Hermione somehow knew that he wasn’t remembering the attack at all. He was thinking about the day almost three years ago when Harry had hit Draco with the very curse Harry was now recovering from. Hermione didn’t know how Draco felt about Harry’s injuries now…maybe she didn’t want to know.

“I can’t believe that we…we…were snogging when Harry was…”

Draco chuckled at her screwed up face. “Hermione, don’t feel guilty. Potter was in good hands, and we had to stay hidden for a good while until it all settled down. It was a nice…distraction.”

Hermione oddly found the wicked gleam in his eyes attractive. She barely paid attention to Draco’s sudden change in language: although he still refused to say “Harry” or “Ron”, he had given up calling her by her surname. He was using her given name as if he had never called her by anything else.

“It wasn’t the worst night in your life, right?”

His question wasn’t completely sarcastic, so Hermione felt the urge to reassure him. She took his face between her hands and whispered, “It was the most magical night of my life. And that’s the truth.”

Draco smiled contentedly and leaned his head against the cave wall.

The stillness caused Hermione’s thoughts to wander, which, before long, brought her back to the dangerous reality they now found themselves in.

“Draco.” Her eyes met his worriedly. She was afraid to speak of it, but it had to be let out at one time or another. They couldn’t avoid it now that it was so…obvious. “Draco, what are we to do now? Not just about…you and me, but about your parents and the Neo-Death Eaters. You’re in such trouble now that you saved me and Harry from those fiends. What will your father do to you? Will he…hurt you?”

Her heart jumped at the mere thought of Draco in pain.

Draco kissed her on the lips reassuringly. “Please don’t worry about that, love. Now that I know you’re not going to leave me, I can deal with any consequence that comes my way.”

“But Draco…”

“Shh.” He held a finger to her lips. “Don’t spoil this, please. I just want to lay here with you all evening. I want to be away from it all and pretend nothing exists besides us. Can you do that for me?”

Hermione responded by snuggling closer to his heart and closing her eyes. She felt his light kisses upon her head and watched the setting sun cast sparkling rays onto the water’s dancing surface.

It truly felt like they were the only two people on the face of the earth.

When she awoke next it was the dawn of another day. Which day, Hermione wasn’t exactly sure. Time had escaped her ever since Draco had first brought her to the cabin. That day now seemed so long ago. So much had changed since the fire at the Burrow, when she was so sure that Draco Malfoy had achieved his continuous goal of making her life miserable.

The ocean was placid and glowing under the rising sun. Squinting, Hermione made out the dark silhouette of a man far out on the sand. His bleach blonde hair and unbuttoned white shirt flowed gently in the breeze. Hermione contentedly watched him for awhile. Here, by the sea, he looked…peaceful. Beautifully and entirely undisturbed.

But that false image was shattered when Hermione approached him and saw his face. His jaw was tight, the corners of his lips pulled back in a grimace. His forehead was creased, causing his pale eyebrows to fall over his piercing grey eyes. He barely acknowledged her presence when she lightly placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Draco?”

She waited for him to speak. She had learned from experience how foolish it was to try and force anything out of Malfoy.

“I don’t know what my life has become, Hermione,” he whispered. Hermione watched his eyes dart back and forth across the horizon, as if he were waiting for something to erupt across the sky. “I used to be content at playing the game my parents had created. I had accepted the fact that I could never live the life I wished to. But now, for the first time, I’m fulfilling my deep-set desires. Those silly dreams I knew would always be fantasies. But now that it’s all coming true…I don’t know what the hell to do.” He turned toward her, the helplessness in his gaze freezing her to the spot. “Do you know why I left you that night in the cabin?”

Hermione swallowed hard to ease her suddenly dry throat. “N..no. No, I don’t. You were…frightening.”

Draco dropped his head slightly. “I will never forgive myself for that. Never. It was completely reckless and so unlike me…but I had finally lost it. You were driving me mad, Hermione, simply mad.”

Hermione found her defenses rising. “If anything, I would think it should have been the opposite. I was the captive, after all.”

Draco’s eyes widened as he studied her. “You really had no idea? You truly didn’t see what…”

Hermione’s quizzical stare was answer enough.

Draco chuckled low in his throat. “That’s bloody remarkable. Everything you did, everything you said was torture for me. The way you carefully brushed out your hair in the morning, the sly jokes you passed me when I was being difficult, and the softness of your face when you were sleeping. Why do you have to be so damn attractive, Granger?”

Hermione was torn between laughing and glaring at him for his tone. She decided on the latter. “And why do you have to be secretive? No one would know how you were feeling even if you screamed it aloud. Everything about you is mysterious, Malfoy! Lucky for you, that only makes you more…striking.” Blood rushed to her face and she lowered her head in embarrassment. Malfoy must have seen her cheeks redden, though, because he smiled down at her. Lowering himself down on the sand, he motioned for her to join him. She did, though she hesitated before laying her head on his shoulder. Sharing such intimacy with Draco was something she would have to get used to. It still seemed so…forbidden.

“If you didn’t seem so…solid beside me,” Draco began slowly. “I would pass this all off as another dream. Never would I have expected you to fall for such an arrogant git such as myself, unless I gave you some sort of love potion.”

Hermione lifted her head and frowned. “You didn’t, did you?” she asked before she could stop herself.

Draco laughed openly. “Hermione Granger, I may not have been Head Boy but I’m not thick enough to break that kind of law. Besides, it wouldn’t have been as enjoyable if you were forced to believe I was your knight in shining armour.”

“Really?”

He kissed her forehead gently. “Really. I’m enjoying this so much more when you’re sane and honest.”

Hermione was hoping he wouldn’t notice, but she saw his eyes following her hair twirling.

“You’re anxious,” he noticed quietly.

Hermione sighed. “You’re going to hate me, but I…really need to see Harry and Ron. I feel so terrible being here while they’re trying to heal at St. Mungo’s. I need to go back.”

For a moment, she felt he was going to deny her request. Then he took her hand and squeezed it.

“Then we’ll go back into the lion’s den,” he murmured.