She Is Made Of Gold |Hermione Poly Fic| Book 2

Chapter Fifteen

Hi, please do something for yourself today.

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Draco

With his lips pressed tight together he tried to sleep.  His hand smoothed over her hair, his eyes stinging with angry tears. He slipped away through the halls and to the basement. Severus looked up for a second, then back down, picking leaves off the stem.

"Do not lecture me, boy," Severus's voice was choked and low. His pale face was red due to the heavy chill of the basement. He could very well cast a charm, warm himself up. He wouldn't though, he was punishing himself. Draco grabbed his arms, pushing the older man to the side.

With a hard slap to his face, Draco started, "You are a fucking fool. You haven't spoken to her in a week."

Severus dug his fingers into the boys back, dragging them together. "She doesn't wish for me to speak to her. She made a point to avoid me."

Their noses touched, briefly, before Draco sent him stumbling into his wing backed chair. "Fucker. Do you love her? What has she done but be kind?"

He left fuming, creeping up the stairs and back into his bed. Hermione rolled into him, wrapping their fingers together. He kissed her head, sighing softly.

The next two days passed in a heavy silence. Hermione packed happily for the trip they would soon take to Bulgaria. Viktor told them all stories about his family.

"Three young sisters," he said one evening, "Sasha, Ivet, and Sofie. Sofie is small, with raven hair and big eyes. She will go to school next year. Sasha is oldest, fourteen, light hair like father, she is a dancer. Ivet is calm. A painter, and a pianist. Perhaps you may teach her more during our stay."

They would stay for the whole month of December, in the large home by the sea.

"And your mother is Nickolina." Draco asked, setting his mug of tea on the coffee table. He stole a glance at Hermione who sat between Viktor's legs. She was flipping through the photo album Viktor had.

He nodded, flipping a strand of Hermione's hair up into the elaborate braid he was making.

They sat for hours. Draco was the first to call it a night. He kissed Hermione on the cheek. Then he pressed a feather light kiss to the Bulgarian's forehead.

Viktor left soon after, telling her to come to bed before the fire burned out. She nodded, whispering out her goodnight.

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Severus

Once he was sure that the other two had slipped away for sleep he found her. She was back in her chair, ghosting her fingers over the pictures in the glossy laminate. He studied her. Her silhouette looked soft and shaded in the fire light. Her body drowning in Viktor's huge sweater.

A single tear rolled down her cheek, "Severus, do you intend to stay in the doorway."

She looked up to him, and pained smile on her peach lips. More salty droplets caressed her warm skin, and he stepped to her. Slowly the way you approach a baby dear.

"I threw away all of my liquor. I will stop. I have. Please do not think less of me for depending on alcohol." His voice was softened by her hand, taking his, her lips kissing the tips of his fingers.

"I could never think less of you," she said. She wanted it back to normal. The rotation was incomplete without him in it. "Take me to bed?"

He smiled, hooking his arms under her legs and lifting her body to his. She lay her small hands on his face, tracing out the small wrinkles of his mouth, the crease of his eyes.

He kissed her palm, holding her a little tighter, so as not to drop her.

When Viktor saw them enter Severus's room he nodded, going to lie down with Draco. The blonde, fast asleep, wouldn't mind it at all.

Hermione slept better then she had since the fight began. Cradled in his arms, his warm breath on her neck, his large hands on her belly. She slept like the dead. Quiet and unmoving. A peace.

In her world everything was right.