Tempus Viatorum

Chapter 11

Aurora Greengrass looked startlingly much like her future granddaughter Astoria. They were so similar even Draco forgot himself from time to time. But then she'd open her mouth, and nothing remotely clever would come out. Where Astoria had been sharp tongued and quick-witted, Aurora only cared about appearances. And more so about Draco's last name. She saw him for what most girls would see him in this time; a good match for marriage.

It was disappointing to say the least.

Hermione however... Hermione saw him like no one else saw him; in this time or their own. She made him feel needed, like he had a purpose. Where he previously hadn't been able to pay attention to anything that came out of her swotty mouth, he was now enthralled to listen to anything she said. He saw her in a whole different light, and found that he really liked what he was seeing. And he felt protective over her, a strong need to defend her and keep her safe. Moreover, she was his anchor to their own time.

The only problem was... she didn't seem to feel the same way. If the Slytherin party last night had been any indication of it, he was sure she didn't. And it hurt, surprisingly.

Never had he imagined the time would come when he, Draco Malfoy, lusted over Hermione Granger. But here they were.

To watch her grind herself on Avery had been torturous, and then to see them leave together, sexual tension clear in their eyes, had been his view of being in hell. He had wanted nothing more than to trade places with Lorenzo, as he longed for the feel of her body.

When the pair left the common room, Draco called it a day. He didn't feel up for any more partying knowing just where Hermione's night was headed. So, he had simply excused himself to a pouting Aurora and gone to bed.

It took longer than usual to fall asleep. He kept seeing images of Hermione under Avery; lustful noises leaving her small mouth, only for the scenery to change into Riddle on top of her.

Draco awoke in a pool of his own sweat, desperately shaking his head clear of the unwanted images. He still remembered Riddle's warning, and knew he ought to behave himself better. He wanted nothing more than to keep Hermione safe, and if being a dutiful little knight was the way to go; he'd do it.

It was odd how his feelings towards the witch had changed so suddenly. To think about their adolescent years was hard, since he knew he'd been acting like a dick towards her. Moreover, now that he knew her, he felt even worse about it. But anytime he tried to apologise to her she'd just wave it off, claiming they were young and stupid back then. He knew she didn't believe his sincerity.

These feelings that had been growing towards her were dangerous, more so as he noticed a certain Dark Lord's newfound interest in her as well.

Groaning in defeat of his own overthinking, he went about his day. The only upside was that he had a scheduled date with Hermione in the Room of Requirement.

When he entered she was already there. He scoffed at her choice of scenery.

"Miss that godforsaken place already?" he sneered as he flung himself on the red sofa.

"Gryffindor tower is a place of warmth and stability, of course I miss it," she frowned as she sat up a little more on her own sofa.

"It's just so... red," he said and waved his hand around looking for words to describe it.

"Yes, well. Slytherin's common room is the epitome of green, so," she snorted.

Draco chuckled as he had to agree with the witch.

"Fair," he smiled. "So, how are you doing? Nursing a hangover?"

"Just a small one," she joked, "How about you?"