His Girl by greenflowerpot

Chapter 15

- NOT MY STORY!! ALL CREDITS TO @greenflowerpot ON A03!!

Draco gathered Hermione in his arms and took her home. Malfoy Manor was all but impenetrable and they would be safe there while the fallout of the Dark Lord's death swept the country.

She was still weak, her head nestled into his chest, but she twisted to look at him and run shaking fingers over his cuts and bruises.

"You're hurt, Draco," she whispered. Then, she noticed his scarlet irises. Her face paled. "Your—your eyes..."

He leaned down to press a soft kiss to her temple but didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. She had wanted him to be a good man, a better man—instead he had become a monster. He would do it all again if it meant saving her, but he worried Hermione would reject him once she learned that Voldemort's blood now ran in Draco's veins.

Draco tucked Hermione into an armchair by the fire, summoned tea, food, and water for her as well as healing potions for himself. He avoided looking her in the eyes, though he felt her gaze on him.

"What happened?" she asked softly.

She was going to recoil and he could not bear to see it. Draco stared at the floor as he relayed the events, hoped that perhaps she would be able to look past his tainted blood if he could only keep his red eyes out of view. When he got to the end of the story, he stammered.

But then her small hand cupped his cheek. She lifted his face so he would look at her and, against his will, Draco forced himself to oblige.

Hermione's gaze was fierce and adoring.

"You don't ever have to hide from me, Draco," she said. "Not ever."

It was as though some wall within Draco broke. The terror he felt at almost losing her, the sacrifices he had made to get her back, the fear that she would turn him away—all the feelings he had been keeping at bay burst forth.

He let out a tight little exhale, trembled under her touch as she pulled him in and pressed her lips to his. Draco's whole body shivered, quaking under the stress it had been through. He let himself hold her too tightly, pulled her possessively against him and pressed his face into the soft crook of her neck. She melted against him, pliant and sweet.

"No more dangerous things," he muttered into her skin, the scent of warmth and vanilla engulfing him. "You said we should raise chickens, yes? I'm going to get us so many that you'll never want to leave the estate."

Hermione laughed and Draco nearly started crying at the joyful little sound.

──────⊱⁜⁜⊰──────

Draco slept for much of the next day, Hermione tucked next to him. She read books, napped on occasion, picked at croissants and tried to get Draco to eat as well. He woke at last when Hermione nipped at the skin on his throat, her warm fingers running up and down his sides.

"Draco," she whispered. "Are you feeling better yet?"

He laughed, voice rough from sleep. He shifted to see her better and ran a hand through her curls.

"Mm. I've probably slept long enough. Are you bored, sweetheart?"

"Maybe a little," she admitted with a smile.

"Well, we can't have that."

Hermione put her hands on the waistband of his trousers, looked up at him hopefully and let her fingers slide just under the fabric. He smiled and pulled her hand lower, pressing her palm against him.

"Have I been neglecting you?"

"Draco, can we..."

She trailed off, too shy to ask for what she wanted.