Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Heart and Soul ❯ Chapter Four ( Chapter 4 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Heart and Soul
By: Tassana Burrfoot

Chapter Four


Throughout the entire trip home, no one made a sound. Even the radio was quiet, for Hermione had shut it off. Hermione's mother did not question the teenagers about their moods, preferring to wait until later.

The moment they parked outside the house, Hermione threw open her door and hopped out of the car. She stormed into the house. She knew Malfoy and her mother were following, Malfoy close behind, but she did not care.

She stomped up to her room and slammed her bedroom door. She was careful to lock the door for she wanted to see no one. She plopped onto her bed and screamed into her pillow. In an effort to relieve more anger, she threw the pillow at the wall.

She wanted to beat Malfoy to a bloody pulp. To make him suffer as she had. She had never been this angry at him. Never this hurt by his words. And he did hurt her. He hurt her so much, she could strangle him.

Truth was, she was scared. That kiss affected her a lot more than she cared to admit. Furthermore, his callousness and indifference to it all cut through her like a knife through butter. How could he kiss her like that and then act so... shallow? Didn't he feel what she had felt? Was he even capable of feeling anything?

His apology had seemed sincere at first, but then he had covered it with an insult. He asked her if she had enjoyed it. Well, hadn't he?

No. He had told her as much. He hated it. He hated kissing a Mudblood. That's how he saw her. Just another filthy little Mudblood. And that hurt.

Wait. What was she thinking?! Disgusted with herself, she growled. She had kissed Draco Malfoy! Actually, he kissed her and she returned it!

Now that she was away from him, she could freely admit that she had enjoyed it. It was like heaven on earth the way he held her, teased her lips tenderly with his tongue... Now she was even more disgusted with herself. Hermione Granger kissed Draco Malfoy? EW!

But, she could recall the taste of him. He tasted like caramel with a hint of chocolate. He was a sweet treat to her tongue and lips. And the way he held her, cradling her face with one hand as he supported her waist and pulled her closer with his other...

She berated herself for the turn of her thoughts. Revulsion washed over her like a mudslide. That she would even think about him in any way...

But he had been so gentle. So soft. His body had been strong and tense beneath her hands. They had melded into one another so perfectly. She knew what lay beneath his clothes. Knew what he looked like, for the most part. She wanted to run her hands over every inch of him. To kiss him senseless and lick every juicy bit...

"Oh, my God!" she chastised herself, standing up and pacing the room.

What the bloody hell was she thinking?! This was Draco Malfoy! He was cold and heartless. An asshole of the highest standard. He hated her. Hated everything about her. The feeling was mutual.

She seriously considered placing a memory charm on herself. Anything to get rid of the memory of that horrible kiss.

The worst part about it was, it hadn't been horrible. It had been perfect. Underneath that mask of hatred, Malfoy was incredible. She had actually enjoyed it. That realization made her feel terrible. Guilty.

What happened to her? What had he done? What had she done?

She knew how Harry and Ron would react to the situation. Oh, God! She had betrayed them. Betrayed everything!

How could she have been so selfish? It wasn't just about kissing "some" guy. She had kissed Draco Malfoy, the only son of Death Eater Lucius Malfoy. And she had enjoyed it.

What kind of friend kisses her best friends' enemy and enjoys it? How horrible was she to do such a thing?

Feeling even worse, Hermione began to cry. She was hurt and disgusted. She wanted to throttle Malfoy for kissing her. More importantly, she wanted to throttle herself for kissing him.

Sighing, she went to her desk and pulled out a piece of parchment. She opened her ink jar and dipped her quill into the ink. Carefully, she began to write:

Dear Harry,

She paused as she tried to think of what to say. She hadn't written to Ron or Harry in two weeks. How could she express her guilt in a way they would understand?

Angry with herself, she pushed the paper and quill away. She just couldn't bring herself to tell them. It was just a kiss, after all. Grant it, she had never really kissed a guy before, especially not like that. She had never experienced...

It was just a kiss. No need to upset her friends. Besides, it wasn't going to happen again. Malfoy made that perfectly clear.

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

Visions of Granger in that beautiful lavender gown played within his mind. He dreamed of her walking down the stairway at Hogwarts. She was radiant, her smile lightened up her face, reminding him of an angel.

It was the Yule Ball. But, it was different. This time, she wasn't smiling at Krum. She was smiling at Draco. As she reached the bottom of the steps, he held out his arm for her. She graciously accepted and he led her into the Great Hall. He was the luckiest boy in the world.

Everyone else in the room had ceased to exist. Draco and Hermione were alone. Soft music played endlessly from the heavens. Her constant smile warmed his heart. Almost as if it were meant to be, their bodies moved perfectly to the music. Her laughter as he twirled her around only added to the atmosphere.

And then they kissed. It was a slow passionate kiss which spoke of the longing in both their hearts. The world had stopped turning and they graciously delved into one another. Their hearts and souls combined into one.

Draco awoke with a start. He could still feel Granger's lips on his. The sensations of the vivid dream mixed with his already confused emotions. Hermione Granger was a Mudblood.

All his life, Draco had been taught that Mudbloods were a worthless waste of space. They stole magical education and rights from those who truly deserved it. They were odd, they were strange. They just weren't... right.

The complete opposite of a Squib, Mudbloods did not fit into the society in which they were brought up. And because they are brought up by Muggles, they really didn't fit into the Wizarding Community either. Mudbloods took up the wizards' natural resources and threatened the very existence of wizard kind.

History spoke quite clearly of what Muggles thought of those born to magic. Witch hunts littered a bloody path thought wizard history like broken glass in an abandoned warehouse. Witches and wizards had suffered horribly among Muggles. So, to remain safe, the Wizarding Community had gone into hiding.

For years a peaceful existence had occurred among the wizards. Life had begun to reclaim itself.

That changed when Mudbloods began to appear. These freaks of nature who had no clue about magic or the magical world had reopened old wounds. Witch hunts started up again and many innocent lives had been lost. Worse, wizards and witches began to take Mudbloods in, treating them as equals. Even breeding with them.

Draco sighed. Mudbloods just didn't belong. They weren't proper, weren't right. They had cost countless innocents their lives.

And yet, Draco could not get the picture of Granger in that dress out of his mind. Her lips were brandished on his.

He needed a cold shower.

He got up and went to his dresser. He took out a change of clothes and then headed to the bathroom. About thirty minutes later, he emerged feeling refreshed. The cold shower was exactly what he had needed.

He went downstairs, taking the stairs three at a time and headed to the kitchen. A large glass of cold milk would do him some good.

Turning the light on, he jumped when he saw Mrs. Granger sitting at the counter. She was sipping a cup of coffee and smiling at him.

"Good evening, Draco. You're up late," she greeted quietly.

"Why were you sitting in the dark?" he asked as he opened the refrigerator.

She shrugged. "I normally do. I figure it's the best way to keep from waking the others. I grew up in a small three bedroom house," she explained. "Seemed I would always wake someone, so I kept the lights off."

He nodded, but did not really understand. He took the milk out and grabbed a cup from the cabinet. After pouring himself some milk, he returned the carton to the refrigerator before leaning up against the counter and taking a sip.

"I heard you taking a shower," she commented. "Do you usually bathe so late? Or is something bothering you?"

For a moment, he did not respond. He sipped his milk and then answered, "I don't take late showers. I had a disturbing dream and thought a shower would help."

"And did it help?" she inquired.

He thought about it a moment. Did the shower really help? He shrugged. "I suppose so. Though, not really in the way I intended."

She nodded. "Would you like to talk about it?"

"Not particularly," he told her. "I just... I said something to your daughter that I hadn't meant to say."

"Did you apologize?" she questioned.

"I tried to," he replied, truthfully, "but it seemed to make things worse. She got defensive and it escalated until she slapped me. I don't even know what I had said to cause her to slap me."

Mrs. Granger gave him a soft smile. "Hermione has her father's temper. She's stubborn, too. And it's hard for her to forgive easily. Especially after such a profound kiss..."

His eyes widened as he stared at her. "She told you?"

She shook her head. "One of Mr. Granger's friends, a man named Bruce, called earlier and told me about it. Said it was worse than watching a romance movie," she giggled.

Draco paled. He didn't know what a "movie" was, but he knew what romance was. "I never meant to kiss her," he said. "There were three men bothering her. I got defensive, so I told them I was her boyfriend and to bug off. They told me to prove it and when I refused, they kept pressuring me. So, I kissed her."

"According to Bruce, it was more than just a kiss," she sighed. "He told me there was a lot of feeling behind it. As if the two of you had forgotten anyone else existed. He was so ashamed of witnessing such a pure moment, he turned away."

"Bruce must've been one of the three guys," Draco surmised. "If so, he was hitting on her, even after he realized who she was."

She giggled again, "Yes, that would be Bruce. Dirty old man. He doesn't mean anything by it. Probably was just trying to get under your skin."

"Well, it worked," he snorted. "Now Granger's mad at me and I don't know what to do."

Mrs. Granger raised an eyebrow. "You could always by not calling her 'Granger.' Using a last name formalizes it. It makes an apology seem less sincere, less real. Almost forced, even."

He creased his eyebrows. "But, I've always called her 'Granger.' I don't consider her my friend, so I..."

"And yet you are staying under her roof," she softly interrupted. "Did you know that Hermione is the one who took care of you while you were out? She rarely left that room save for her privy times. She ate, slept, and studied in there, waiting for you to wake up. She checked you constantly and even gave you sponge baths. She made sure you ate, too, though how she did it, I am unsure. When you stirred or moaned, she would take your hand and say your name, hoping you would wake. She would pray for you to wake and be all right. She even argued with your mother."

"Argued with my mother?" he asked.

She nodded. "Mrs. Malfoy came by one day after you were released. In fact, the very day after. She had all your school things with her. Hermione was angry, telling the woman she needed to care for her son. The argument was nasty. Your mother called Hermione a Mudblood several times. Finally, Mr. Granger was able to calm them down before they resorted to a duel, though I don't know how. He agreed with your mother to keep you here. Said you didn't need to be moved anymore than you already had.

"Hermione didn't like it. She kept saying you needed to be in familiar surroundings. You had been traumatized, she was certain. You needed proper care and support from those who love you.

"I'm not going to pretend to know what's going on at your home. Your mother seemed to think it was too unsafe there for you. So, she asked if we could keep you until you either got better or school started. And we agreed. Hermione hadn't left your side since," she finished.

This surprised Draco. Not only had Granger attempted to defend him, but she had taken care of him. She had even... Paling, he hurriedly asked, "You said she bathed me. She didn't.. well, you know.. bathe me... there, did she?"

He suddenly felt both violated and intrigued. Visions of Granger touching him there threatened to take form. He shook his head to get rid of them. He would need another cold shower.

Mrs. Granger laughed, "Heavens, no! She was very adamant about that. Told us both that under no circumstances was she going to go anywhere near... 'there'. She mostly just wiped down your arms and legs to stimulate circulation. Your face, too. She would spend a lot of time wiping your face. I guess she thought it might wake you."

Despite their bitter background, Granger had still managed to treat him with kindness and respect. It was probably more than he would have ever done for her. In fact, he knew it was more than he would ever have done for her.

Ever so slowly, memories of what he had originally thought of Mudbloods, at least of one Mudblood, had begun to disappear. "I want to do something for her," he said suddenly, overcome with emotion. "I know I can't really repay her in full, but there must be something. Perhaps a gift of some sort."

Mrs. Granger smiled. "You know, you're not half as bad as Hermione claims. I do see some of what she says sometimes, but not always."

He shook his head. "It's late and I'm tired," he replied. "Knowing her, she's got me pegged right. I'm just not showing it right now."

She nodded. "Well, if that's the case, pink roses are Hermione's favourite. And she loves warm bagels with butter and strawberry jam in the morning."

The older woman got up, bid him a goodnight, and went up the stairs. Draco finished his milk and smiled broadly.

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

Hermione opened her eyes and looked up at the ceiling. She felt rejuvenated after her night's sleep. It had been exactly what she needed. She turned onto her side and nearly jumped out of her bed.

Sitting on her nightstand was a beautiful boutique of pink roses with leather leaf and baby's breath accents. Curiosity sparked her interest as she sat up, wondering who had left them.

A small white envelope sat within the boutique. She carefully took it out, amazed at the delicate way her name was penned in gold ink. She turned it around and was further surprised to see the envelope was sealed with the Gryffindor crest. She gently broke the seal and carefully pulled the white card out. Opening it, she read:

I'm sorry that I hurt you. Please accept this small token of my deepest apologies.

It wasn't signed. She flipped it over, but still did not see any indication as to who sent it to her. She turned her attention back to the flowers. They were extremely beautiful and smelled wonderful.

She sat back and pondered over the mystery. Who would have to apologize for anything? Well, she knew one person, but he would never apologize. Especially not him. He was far too arrogant and prideful.

Still curious, but willing to think it over, she put the card back and set about getting dressed. Normally, she was an early riser .Preferring to get up as soon as possible so she could start the day. Today though, she had overslept a bit.

Dressed in a pink t-shirt and faded jeans, Hermione made her way downstairs. She was greeted in the living room by Malfoy. "Good morning," he said to her brightly. "Here, allow me to escort you to the breakfast table."

To her surprise, he held out his hand for her. She gingerly took it, casting him an odd look, and allowed him to lead her to the table. He pulled out her chair for her and, once she was seated, he scooted the chair closer to the table. "Now, don't move," he told her as he walked into the kitchen.

Surprised, she watched him pick up two plates and dig some forks out of the drawer. He brought the plates out and set one before her and the other in his spot. "I hope you like pancakes. Your mum had suggested bagels, but I thought pancakes would be better. Seeing as you eat them all the time at school," he commented, throwing her a dashing smile.

Sheer amazement kept her from saying anything as he went back into the kitchen. He returned moments later with two glasses and a jug of orange juice. After pouring the juice in both glasses and setting the glasses in their appropriate places, he returned to the kitchen and brought out a stack of pancakes. Using a spatula, he put half of the pancakes on her plate and the other half on his own.

He returned to the kitchen one last time and brought back a pitcher of syrup. He placed the syrup on the table. "Be careful," he warned. "It's really hot."

She stared at him dumbfounded as he took his seat. "Did you bump your head last night?" she questioned.

He cast her a charming smile and shook his head. "Both of your parents left for work, so I thought I would fix breakfast."

"You fixed this?" she questioned, astounded.

He laughed, "I wish! No, sadly I burned the original batch. So, I looked in the 'phonebook' and called a nearby diner that delivers breakfast. While waiting, I called the florist and ordered those flowers."

"You bought those flowers?" she inquired, shocked. "Where did you get the seal? Muggles don't know anything about Hogwarts. And when did you learn to use a phone?"

He poured some syrup over his pancakes and began cutting them with his fork. "A 'phone' isn't hard to figure out. Your mum showed me this morning. As for the seal, I nicked it."

"From where?"

He used his fork to point at her. "You," he answered. "Well, actually, your mum nicked it from some of your old school things. A pack of stickers you had gotten when you first started school."

"Are you sure you didn't bump your head?" she asked.

He nodded as he took a bite of his pancakes. "I thought it'd be nice after what I did yesterday."

Now she knew she was losing it. Or she was dreaming. "Okay. Who are you and what have you done with Malfoy?" she demanded.

He raised a quirky eyebrow. "I would actually prefer it if you called me Draco," he told her. "I had an epiphany last night."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Of course," he responded. "You and I have always been on the outs. I never really liked you and you never really liked me. What's the basis for our judgments of one another? No, don't answer that," he quickly added when she opened her mouth to speak. "Truth is, we really don't know one another. We know some things. I know you are Muggle-born and you like to read. But, I don't know your favourite book or author. You're a really good witch. The smartest in our class. And that means a lot to come from a pureblood like me."

She snapped at him hotly, "I don't need your approval."

"I was offering a compliment, Hermione," he calmly stated. "I'm a pureblood. Possibly moreso than Weasley, especially in mind. For me to admit that a Muggle-born is better than I am at something is saying a lot. More than you probably realize, actually."

"So, what? Do you like me now?" she inquired.

He shook his head. "No, I don't know you well enough to like you. I don't know you well enough to dislike you either," he explained.

"So, you wish to get to know me?" she guessed, still thinking she was dreaming.

He smiled. "I would like to get to know you," he answered. "But, only if you don't mind getting to know me as well."

"Um, okay," she slowly agreed.

Still smiling, he stood up and walked around the table to her. He held out his left hand. "Hello. I am Draco Malfoy, but you may simply call me Draco," he introduced himself.

Feeling silly, she stood up and looked into his gray eyes. "I'm Hermione Granger," she said a bit clumsily, placing her hand in his.

"May I call you Hermione?" he asked sweetly.

"Um, sure," she confirmed.

He lifted her hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Hermione.”