Understanding

Part 13

The first time I cam back to Hogwarts after visiting Scorpius with Draco, I was bombarded with questions about what we did. Everyone seemed a little too invested in my nonexistent love life. Of course, I did take him by the hand and drag him to my room and then we did leave together. It just adds to the rumors Rita Skeeter cooked up. When Ron found out we stayed in his room on his bed, he was panicking about what we did on there. I tried to reassure him nothing happened but he wouldn't believe me. Draco visiting the Gryffindor commons area became a regular thing. It gave me a break from the questions because they suddenly had another brain to pick but he wasn't helpful. He seemed to thrive on the attention and would fuck with them. He would shamelessly flirt with me leaving my heart racing and the others screaming. He would smirk cooly and go back to studying with Hermione, but I generally become too embarrassed to return to what  I was doing. It sure gives them more ammunition when they flock to me. He thinks it's funny. He'll greet me with a hug or hold my hand while we are sitting together or he'll call me "babe" as if it isn't slowly killing me as I fall more and more for him. 

After the first few times, the questions died down but he never stopped teasing me. He wasn't mean about it though which is why I could never be mad at him. There had been times where it had gotten past curfew and he would stay with the Gryffindors and he would sleep in my bed and he always made sure I was ok. During the days he asked about my nightmares to make sure I was sleeping well. He attended every meeting and when I felt ok enough to share,  I would feel his hand on my knee under the table. When Ron and Hermione had their time alone, I could always go to him and hang out. Hell, he even let me into the Slytherin dorms. They look different from when I was in there in second year. The green seems more complimenting to the dark framing and the fact that it's underwater doesn't worry me so much anymore. The other Slytherins were nice enough to me.

Hermione and Ron both think I should talk to him about the teasing but I'm afraid it'll scare him away and I don't want our contact to end. I don't want him to stop talking to me because of this crush I've developed for him. And anyway, a less selfish reason would be that I think he likes talking to me too. We just understand each other. We've been in similar positions before and he opens up to me about it. He hasn't gone into the torture with me much but he's told me his feelings and his regrets with the war. It's more than either of us have shared before with anyone else because we are the only ones who have been in the position we have. We were both forced into our roles without any warning. I want him to have someone to talk to too. We are several months into the year now and Draco has decided to take a nap in the Gryffindor commons while I am working on a paper for potions. Everyone else has gone on a trip to Hogsmeade but I've got too much to do and he is just too tired. We came home last night from the Burrow and with all of the work that's been piled on us and the restoration, we are all exhausted. Luckily, Christmas break is just around the corner and I couldn't be more ready. A month away from school is just what I need. I'm not sure how we will do Christmas. I always go to the Burrow but Draco lives with me now. Do I need to get him something? Are we having our own Christmas? What about Andromeda and Teddy? I want them to have a Christmas. 

All of this thinking is killing my head. I look up from the floor to where Draco is draped across the couch. His sweater sleeve has ridden up exposing the dark mark. I shiver at the look of it. He isn't sleeping peacefully, either. His fist is clenched tightly and his eyes are fluttering.  I can see the pupils moving rapidly under his eyelids and his mouth is turned into a scowl with his eyebrows knitted. Soft grunts and cries leave his lips. It's not as bad as the first time I found him. I don't know if it could get worse than that. Still, it's frightening to see a tear run down his cheeks and to hear a yelping sound through the room.

"Draco." I whisper, softly shoving his body until his eyes open.

"I'm sorry." He sighs. He sits up and leans on his knees.

"It's ok. Do you want to talk about it?" I ask.

"It was my initiation. To become a death eater." He admits. I nod, encouraging him to continue. "I was basically their bitch before I became a death eater but it wasn't so bad then. Before I became a death eater they made me swear to listen to only Voldemort and his direct orders. The asshole basically moved in with us. He made me recruit Crabbe and Goyle before I could become a death eater. They were more than happy to do whatever I was doing. It's my fault Crabbe's dead and Goyle is in Azkaban. The initiation was horrible. They had me tied down for days to some sort of table while Voldemort unleashed every spell he knew on me. I screamed until I was hoarse and he laughed. I have scars on my front and back where he split my skin open only to heal it and do it again. At one point he turned my blood to acid and had it eating me from the inside out and then he put this awful screeching sound in my ears until my head was pounding and then he would hurt me more. Every day for so long. When he would get tired like I said he made me do it to myself. Or my father... he would hurt me. I was used to him hurting me but not like this. It was like he took pleasure in making me suffer. But the death mark hurt too. When he put it on me, it was like something stabbed each finger to a table and then my palm and then set my arm on fire. He branded the skin on my wrist so even if someone found a way to remove it,  I would always be marked by him. I felt the mark. The snake felt like it was in my veins crawling down to my wrist and tearing its way through my flesh with its fangs. They all laughed at me when I cried. They even spat on me and took turns casting cruciatus at me. For weeks after that my body would tremor randomly from the after-effects. Sometimes I can still feel the pain." He speaks. The more he talks, the sadder I get for him. He was tortured and then after that, he still had to do whatever he was told by the same people who hurt him. And Voldemort had the audacity to hug him at the battle. 

"Say something. Please." He begs me. He looks so broken and lost that I don't even know what to say. I clutch his hand in mine and squeeze it.

"I'll never let any of them get you again," I swear to him as a tear falls off of his chin. I sit up on my knees in front of him and wipe it away with my thumb. Up this close, I can see scars around his throat. From what, I have no idea. But I will never let that happen to him again.

"It still scares me. They are in Azkaban, but they can break out. Aunt Bellatrix did." He whispers.

"I'll fucking kill them. They won't get close to you." I promise. His forehead rests on mine and I can feel his breath. My knees are hurting from being on the hard floor while he has the privilege of sitting but I almost don't notice it over the sound of my own heartbeat. My thumb still stokes his cheek even as he leans away. He stops a few centimeters from my face and his eyes look bluer than they ever have. His skin is soft even as he shakes slightly.

"Thank you." He mutters.

"Let me kiss you." I blurt out and his eyes go wide for a moment. I start to back away but his hand squeezes in mine and he shakes his head yes. I close my eyes and push my lips to his. He kisses me back immediately, pulling me closer by my shirt. I part his lips with my tongue and he whines into my mouth. His lips work softly against my own and the taste of him drives me wild. I push him back on the couch slightly and climb on top of him. His back rests on the back of the couch and I straddle his hips, getting much more comfortable than where I was before on the floor. I nibble on his bottom lip and go back to kissing him softly. His arms circle my waist and I tangle my fingers in his soft hair. I've wanted to touch it for months now. He feels like home and I can't get enough. I tug the locks and he squeezes my hips. I jolt forward at the action and he smirks into the kiss. The kiss isn't heated or rough. It's playful and fun and intimate but I can tell he has the ability to be rough too and I hope I have the chance to find out. The kiss dwindles down to long lip touches and then pecks. He smiles at me lazily before looking over my shoulder and sighing.

"I guess the cat's already out of the bag." I turn around quickly at his words and there stands Ron and Hermione.

"They're right behind us." They warn and I jump off of his lap, turning bright red.