The Darkwood Wand

S.O.F.T.

"HIDE THIS?"

Draco winced. He thought that might be a sticking point, but did he really deserve to be screeched at?

Hermione was sitting beside him in her bed, tears still drying on her cheeks. It had nearly broken him, those tears, this amazing witch crying for him. She had saved his life, then healed him, and fed him, and looked up at him with wide, hopeful eyes, and when he'd asked her to stay with him those eyes had glowed with such happiness ... until he'd ruined it.

And now Hermione was glaring, which put paid to Draco's immediate plans. There should be hugging and kissing and shedding of clothes, not screeching and scowling. And it was all his fault.

"Why?" she asked. "Why do you want to hide us?"

"I would drag you down, you know that. I would be the vile seducer and you—"

Her eyes narrowed. "You're quoting that horrid Nott."

"He's right. I know you think I have a future, but I don't—"

"So this is just a fling, then? Like with Romilda? And you'll get tired of me—"

"I will not get tired of you," Draco ground out. Hermione's eyes popped at his words, and Draco shifted and placed his hands on either side of her body, looking into her face.

"You want to talk about this now?" he asked. "Fine. My public life is utter shit and I accept that. My family worked for the Dark Lord. I worked for the Dark Lord. I let Death Eaters into Hogwarts. I stood by while you were tortured—" Hermione opened her mouth to interrupt but subsided with a glare from him. "I tried to stop you all in the Room of Requirement. I did nothing during the battle except beg people not to kill me and then walk over to the Dark Lord's side. You were a hero. I was a villain."

He took a deep breath, trying to marshal his thoughts, and Hermione, mercifully, stayed silent.

"Now, obviously, I was a shit villain," he admitted. "You act like I'm a hero now, but I'm not much better at that either. But I'm trying. And I'll keep trying, I promise. But Hermione ..." He gave her a direct look, much like the ones he gave Vane with his instructions. He wanted this to sink in.

"Hermione, we can't be open about this. We can't hold hands and walk into the Great Hall. We can't dine out at Diagon Alley. I can't take you to see Mother so you can argue about Divination. Too many people know already and we can't help that, but rumors we can manage. An open relationship we can't." He looked down at his fists clenched on the red-patterned quilt, then at her again.

"I know what my future is," Draco said, "and it wouldn't be very heroic to make it your future, too."

He braced himself for more screeching, but Hermione just looked up at him. "Are you finished?" she asked.

"Yes," Draco said, sitting back again. Merlin, honest communication was exhausting. How did people live like this?

Hermione folded her hands like she was about to recite in class. "I don't agree with you, Draco Malfoy," she said. "But I've decided that we can discuss this another time."

Draco didn't know how to respond. "Another time" sounded both promising and terrifying.

"We will hide this for now," Hermione continued as if conferring a great favor. "But I'm preparing a list of reasons you're wrong. I can think of twelve off the top of my head."

"Fine," Draco said. As long as she kept him around, Hermione could make all the lists she wanted.

Hermione still looked rather severe. "You know, Draco, you didn't have to fly through an ice storm to tell me all this."