Her Sweet, Decadent Smile(A Harry Potter Story)

Chapter 12

Promises had never mattered to him. They were insignificant, not worth his time, or just another cunning means to an end. He'd either never cared for promises or he'd just used them to get what he'd wanted.

Draco didn't know if he could be true to his word.

He'd like to think of what had happened as a spur of the moment decision, something you would only say or do because the situation had called for it.

And with Hermione Malfoy (nee Granger) seated snuggly on his lap, looking unbelievably adorable with her soft, curly tresses and pouting lips, he had not been able to stop the words spilling from his mouth.

She wasn't aware of the amount of control she had on him. Right then, he would've willingly jumped off a cliff if she had asked him to.

He would've done anything.

Briskly, he made his way through the bookcases of the Malfoy Family Library. The library itself was strategically charmed so that no one could use magic to summon the books from their place on the hundreds of towering bookshelves. It was meant to be some sort of security measure, to ensure that no books would ever be stolen so easily.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Blaise asked him again for what seemed to be the hundredth time that day.

Draco managed to shoot him a cold stare. Blaise merely raised an elegant brow in response.

"I said I would do it and I will," Draco stated, feeling a headache forming. He rubbed his forehead with his hand. "I went to France for this. I've threaded through the libraries, the museums, and met Van Bonham himself. I ought to know what I'm doing."

"You do realize, if everything doesn't go accordingly to what we've planned," Blaise said seriously, "We would all perish?"

"When have any of my plans ever failed, hmm?" he replied arrogantly.

"It failed with Hermione," Blaise said with a condescending tone. Draco hated it when he used that tone. It usually meant that he was wrong and Blaise was right. It thoroughly annoyed him. "Need I remind you of your little suicide stunt five years a—"

"Shut it." He walked to another isle of books, skimming through their titles, his footsteps echoing through the silence. "Just help me find this bloody book and shut it."

All Draco heard was an annoyed grunt from the next isle.

He continued the torturous search, pulling the old books out of their little bookshelf homes and reading through them.

He couldn't get his mind off of the recent incident involving Vasil Krum. He kept seeing her face before his eyes just as she was about to open the doors to a black hole. She just looked tired and hurt and miserable with life and everything about it... And he hated it, hated seeing her that way. Back then, when he was still as heartless as the Dark Lord himself, he wouldn't have cared what she was feeling. It hadn't mattered. He hadn't cared.

Now he just wanted her to be happy.

What happened? How did it get to be like this?

To make matters worse, he couldn't imagine what it would be like to live without Granger. The thought of living without her made him angry, nauseous, and sad all at the same time. It was a really depressing thought.

He just wanted her, and everything else distorted and blurred, literally paled in comparison.

She was taking over his life and he didn't even mind.

"You know she almost opened the black hole," he murmured unconsciously.

On the other side of the bookshelf, Blaise wondered questioningly, surprised at what he'd just heard. Draco rarely told him anything about his life. He was reserved about most things. He was reserved about all things.