I wish I'd brought my Jacket

A/N: This is the final part to the story. It is split into two main parts, Draco’s POV then Harry’s. Hermione has her bit to say at the end too.

Thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed this fic, I had no idea my original one shot would be so popular. Beta’d by the wonderful, shadowsamurai. Special thanks to Laylee and Shadow for the extra help. This chapter is dedicated to them. I love you both, hugs.

I have added two original characters in this chapter.


Part 5: A Time to Heal, Draco’s POV.

I’m not entirely sure what time it is. All I know is that it’s no longer daytime and it’s so quiet. The only sound is from Harry’s steady breathing. He’s been sleeping for a while and I hate to wake him, but we really must get home. I feel a bit scared, worried even, that Harry may not want to go back home. He said he did, but what if she’s still there? I don’t think I’d be able to control my anger, and would probably end up doing or saying something I may live to regret. But Harry needs his bed, a good night’s sleep, and that isn’t in the back seat of his car. I’m not sure if he’ll be able to drive just yet, he must still be feeling drained.

I turn my body around, snuggling closer to the warmth, and nearly squash him in the process. He struggles a bit, then I whisper softly in his ear, “Ssh, I’m just getting comfortable, Harry. Go back to sleep.” He doesn’t, though. Instead, he pushes me forcefully and I fall flat on my arse in the small space between the car floor and the seat.

“Harry, what the fuck was that for?” I manage to squeak out as I hoist myself back onto the seat. He looks terrified, but I don’t know why. I’d never hurt him intentionally, surely he must know that. I can see the tears forming in his beautiful eyes, and I just want to hold him and comfort him, but he’s shaking so much.

“D… don’t fucking touch me, don’t, please. Oh God, help me, what have I done? Please… d… don’t hurt me.” He’s crying so hard now. I know he’s confused, but he wanted me to touch him earlier. Didn’t he? Fuck, what if I misread the signs? No, no, I didn’t, he specifically said, ‘Make love to me, Draco.’ He asked me to, so what’s wrong?

I slowly reach out to caress his wet cheek and relax a little when he nuzzles into my hand. “Harry, what’s wrong? I… I love you, I’d never hurt you, can’t you see that? If I wanted to hurt you, I’d have never come for you. You’d be dead by now, Harry. Talk to me, baby, please.”

He continues to nuzzle my hand, which is shaking so much from his sudden outburst. I thought everything was okay between us again, but obviously it’s going to take more than a quick shag to reassure the one I love so much. Words are not my strong point, especially when I was brought up to believe that loving someone is a weakness. You have to be in charge, show them who wears the trousers. But I’m not my goddamn father and I will show Harry how much I love him. Christ, I’ll tell him every day until I’m no longer on this earth. I need him, in every way possible.

I need him to trust me again, to show me he feels secure and loved in our relationship. But I’ve only got myself to blame if he doesn’t or won’t. I can’t just sit here and watch him fall apart, so I reach out to him and pull him to my chest. He struggles, which is what I expect, but what I don’t see coming is the fist that connects with my nose. I immediately see the stars and I feel myself topple to the floor again. It feels like we are back in school, taunting each other and occasionally landing a punch or three on some part of our anatomies. He needs to calm down, this isn’t getting us anywhere, but right now I feel so angry. Mainly at me for thinking everything was hunky dory again, but also at Harry. Merlin, he let me make love to him just a few hours ago and now we’re back to square one.

“What is your fuckin’ problem, Harry?” I ask through clenched teeth. I don’t want to frighten him anymore than I obviously have done already.

“Y… you slept with Her… that bitch, and… and you ask me what’s wrong? I’m not your fuckin’ whore, Malfoy. I won’t let you use me like that again. You can’t expect to shag me, and then fuck off; I w… won’t let it happen. Stop messing with my head, please.”

I watch Harry struggle to control his temper and let the words sink in. He thinks I’m using him. Lord Almighty, help me. I have to get it through to his thick skull that I LOVE HIM. Arrgh, why, why, oh fuckin’ why did this have to happen? As I shift myself into a more comfortable position on the floor, I hear him sobbing and it tugs at my heart so badly I think it’s going to break apart. I have to tell him, and it has to be now, before I lose the only good thing in my life that I have ever had.

I grab hold of his chin and force his head up to look at me. He meets my eyes, but I can see the hurt in his and it pains me. “Harry, listen to me, no, listen” I emphasize as he tries to pull away. Once I’m sure I have his attention, I continue in a shaky voice, “ Baby, I am not using you. I never set out to intentionally hurt you. If I had known what she was doing, I would have put a stop to it immediately. I love you so fuckin’ much, Harry, it hurts to breathe sometimes. When I got here and read your journal, I felt my whole world just slip away. I wanted to curl up into a little ball and die; yes, Harry, die, because I knew I’d hurt you. I knew how betrayed and used you must have felt. And more importantly, I knew that the trust you had for me slipped away the moment I uttered those dreaded words to you. Harry, I’m sorry, please, please forgive me. I… I need you.” The last words come out as a choked sob, but I don’t care. I just sit there waiting for his response; it wasn’t long in coming.

“I’m sorry I punched you. I just feel so angry right now, Draco. I do love you, but… I don’t know if I can take anymore pain. You have no idea what it’s like for me, do you?” I shake my head. “When I was growing up, my relatives used to beat me, starve me, lock me in a tiny cupboard, and basically treat me like a house-elf. They didn’t like the fact I was a wizard and they kept that information from me for a very long time. If it wasn’t for Hagrid, I would never have been a student at Hogwarts. They told me my parents were killed in a… in a c… car cr…ash and I… belie…”

That was it, those words just cut straight through my heart like the knife he used on Voldemort. I get up from the floor and throw myself on top of his shaking form, and hold him so tight. I begin to wonder just how much more he can take. How many more tears can he shed? I’m not sure, but one thing I am certain of is how this has affected him.

I knew a little bit about his childhood, not much, just what I heard from the gossipmongers in the corridors on their way to classes. No wonder he feels this way. The poor lad didn’t know what affection was until I came into his life. All his insecurities and mistrust have arisen because of those damn Muggles he lived with. I could AK them right now for treating him like he was a worthless piece of shite. But then again, I’ve done exactly the same, haven’t I? Merlin, what a mess. I really want him to stop crying, but it seems that he’s letting it all out at once. All I can do is hold him and stroke his hair, speaking softly in his ear the whole time.

He stills when I repeat my story about how the Mudblood drugged me. I think he’s trying to forget, or come to terms with it, I’m not sure, but at least the crying has stopped. There’s a few sobs, but he doesn’t interrupt as I go over it again. I want to make it clear to him that I would rather die than hurt him. “Harry, I couldn’t hurt a hair on your head, even if I wanted to. I love you too much to see you in pain; I wish I had never moved in with you guys now. We would probably have still gotten together, or become closer, it’s just… well, anything is better than this,” I whisper.

At last he stops crying, and wraps his arms tightly around me. I hear him ask me to take him home, but neither of us is in any fit state to drive. I slowly sit up and pull him with me, wrapping the blanket tighter around my body, and I open the car door.

“Wh… where are you going, Draco?”

I take his hand and gently pull him out of the car, then place a little kiss on his furrowed brow. “We’re going home, baby. Leave the car; I’ll buy you a new one.” And with that, I pull him close and Disapparate to our home.


***************

Harry’s POV

I listen to his words in complete shock. Is he really telling the truth? Would Hermione really do something like that? I look harder at Draco’s face, and see the naked emotion clear in his eyes. He isn’t lying. And suddenly I understand what he’s letting me see - he’s vulnerable, open, so very un-Malfoyish. He’s allowing himself to be at my complete mercy - I could do anything I wanted to him right now, and that realisation makes me want to cry.

But all I do is push him away and the further I push him, the more I see the hurt in his eyes too. It’s not Draco who’s at fault here. It’s her, the closest friend I’ve ever had - since Ron died anyway - and all I can feel for her right now is hatred. I never thought for one moment I’d ever think that about Hermione. She was always there for me, lending a supportive shoulder when I had cried in my sleep over Ron.

I feel numb, like a piece of me has died, never to be reborn again. I can’t forgive her, ever. Draco has a feeling that she may still be at home and I hope for her sake she isn’t. Not that I want her to bow out gently, it’s just that I know what Draco’s temper is like. She wouldn’t survive his wrath, of that I am sure. The most I would probably do to her is Obliviate, and then disown, her. Draco probably wouldn’t think twice about using an Unforgivable on her, before pouring that bloody concoction down her throat. And I’d just stand back and let him do it. That’s how much I hate her right now; she’s in the same league as the Dursleys. I wouldn’t spit on any one of them if they were on fire.

I want to give up, really, I do, but I need Draco and there’s no way he would let me give in without putting up a fight. If I can keep telling myself that he’s not to blame, then I may just believe it and start to live my life again. I want him so much, not just beside me, but all around me. His scent, his hands, his body, everything, I want it all. I crave it. He’s the only person who has ever managed to break down those walls I built around myself and kept there for many years. No one ever got past them, not even Ron. But Draco managed it just by saying those five little words to me, that night in his room. I’m in love with you, Harry, and the feelings of loneliness and despair crashed down upon his bedroom floor.

Draco is my saviour. He saved me from a life of never knowing what a caress or loving hug felt like, and I owe it to him to stay by his side. Looking into his eyes whilst he was sprawled on top of me made me realize just how much he loves me. He wants this to work, and deep down, so do I.

When he pulled me up and started to get out of the car, I thought, just for one fearful minute, that I’d pushed him too far and he’d had enough. My mind was in a whirl and I hadn’t even noticed that we were home until I felt his arms drop from my waist.

So here we are, back home, in our own little haven, yet all I can feel is a coldness that wasn’t there before. It’s as though a Dementor is floating around somewhere. I shiver and wrap my arms around myself, trying to warm up. Draco looks around, and then races up the stairs two at a time. I let him go; I’m too bloody cold to move. As I look around the entrance hall, I notice Draco’s leather jacket hanging up on the coat rail. I reach for it and put it on, revelling in the smell of the leather and Draco. This is the jacket he would always wrap around me whenever I got cold. I feel better already.

Everything looks the same, but I can feel that something has changed. I let my eyes wander, trying hard to focus on my surroundings without my bloody glasses. That’s when I see it, a little piece of parchment, no bigger than my thumb, and I pick it up and bring it close to my face. As I squint at it, I hear Draco coming back down stairs. He’s out of breath and he looks murderous. All coherent thoughts leave me at that moment. I’m too scared to move.

“THAT FUCKIN’ BITCH! I’M GOING TO KILL HER; I SWEAR TO MERLIN IF SHE SETS FOOT IN HERE AGAIN, SHE’S DEAD!” He’s yelling and waving his arms around like a madman. I bring my hands up to my ears to block it out. I hate it when Draco’s angry, but it’s worse just now. I’m a quivering mess, shouting at him to stop it.

I think he realizes his mistake, because he moves in front of me and pulls me to his chest. I rest my weary head on his shoulder and let him soothe me to calmness. His hands are gently stroking my back, and I feel myself relax into his touch. The familiar feelings return to me tenfold and for the first time since that fateful night, I feel safe and alive again.

Draco and I stand in the hall swaying gently, just enjoying the closeness for a bit. Then I remember the piece of paper, which is still clutched in my fist. I slowly pull away and hand it to him. His eyes turn dark and I can tell he’s fighting an inner battle to stop himself from yelling again.

“What is it, Draco? What does it say?”

He looks at me and shakes his head. Whatever is written on there has made him angry and upset all over again. He scrunches it up and throws it to the floor before spitting out, “Sorry! Is that all the filthy whore has to say? Fuckin’ sorry? One measly little word! Well it means fuck all. She nearly killed our relationship, Harry. And I’m afraid ‘sorry’ isn’t good enough.”

I feel as though the tables have turned as I find myself trying to comfort a very irate lover. Yes, you heard me right; I said lover and I mean it. There’s nothing else Draco can be to me. I have all of him. He’s my friend, brother, and lover all rolled into one. Not that I’d call my brother a lover, but you know what I mean. He looks out for me, hugs me when I cry, and listens when I talk. So I owe it to him to be everything to him, too. We seem to reach a silent understanding at that moment. We find something sacred that will grow stronger every day. I love him, and… oh fuck, I can feel the moisture gathering in my eyes when I think about just how close I came to never being with Draco again.

Something stopped me the other night. I don’t know what is was, but it felt as though someone was telling me to fight and not to give up. As I felt myself go under, I started to panic; I didn’t want to leave Draco. I saw his face flash before my eyes and I struggled to come up for air, only to shout his name as another wave took me. Then I was on the sand. I don’t know how I didn’t drown, but I’m thankful now that I didn’t. Someone was looking over me at that time, someone who knew just how much Draco and I need each other.

I am pulled from my thoughts by a loud rapping at the door. I freeze, my body once again becoming tense. Draco gives me a puzzled look, and then quickly strides to the door. He pulls it open and comes face to face with two Muggle police officers, and a very scared-looking Hermione.

I charge forward and before I know what I’m doing or saying, I grab hold of her. I notice the officers don’t move to pull me off and Draco looks quite shocked. But I’m raging and I make sure she knows it.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE? HAVEN’T YOU DONE ENOUGH? GO… NOW… AND…” But as usual, I can’t continue. Luckily Draco seems to have come out of his stupor and he’s having a go at her for the both of us.

“You’ve got a nerve. How dare you come back here! Harry nearly died because of you and you have the audacity to show up on our doorstep? You couldn’t even fuckin’ apologize, you evil bitch.” Draco turns to the officers standing on either side of Hermione. “I want this piece of filth charged and locked up. Attempted murder if possible, because if she had continued to feed me that vile stuff, I would have either gone loopy or died at some point,” he spits.

The taller of the two policemen holds up his hand to stop Draco’s tirade. I need to remember that the next time when he goes off on a rant. It seems to shut him up immediately.

“Mr Malfoy, I assume?” Draco nods so the officer continues. “I’m PC McCallum, and this is my colleague, PC Moore. We understand that you are upset over what has happened, but there is no need to be abusive. There will be no need for us to arrest Miss Granger, as she has handed herself in and told us everything. We just dropped by to let you know that she will not be bothering you again.”

My mouth drops open. She’s given herself up? But why? I had been looking forward to making her life a living hell for a bit, before I let Draco dish out his punishment. So she took the coward’s way out, huh? I had to laugh at that, very clever. Saving her arse from our wrath. I don’t know whether to feel happy about it or sad. She won’t bother us again, but it’s the fact that she’ll be in prison, and not suffering the Cruciatus Curse, that’s pissing me off. I think Draco’s a bit stunned too. He’s stuttering and sneering, his famous Malfoy mask firmly in place.

“I beg your pardon? This couldn’t have been done via a phone call? You… you had to bring her here to tell us? Well, Constable McCallum, that just isn’t good enough. She didn’t even show any remorse whatsoever, not even a ‘sorry’ - unless you count a poxy note - and you expect us to be grateful? Fuck off. That lowlife scumbag has scarred Harry for life, not physically, but emotionally. Get her out of my sight and when you lock her up, make sure the key is lost. Oh, and, Granger, I hope, for your sake you never get out of that hell-hole and if you do, well, I suggest fleeing the country because I won’t rest until I’ve hunted you down and killed you with my bare hands.”

I can understand Draco’s anger, but I am afraid he will be arrested too. Just as I am about to tell him to let it go, Constable McCallum advises him to stop the abusive language and threats, or risk the chance of spending a night in the police cells. I have to chuckle to myself as I watch Draco doing a very good impression of a fish. He does have to have the last word, though, much to my chagrin.

“Get out of my sight, you filthy little Mudblood,” he snarls.

Draco slams the door shut and I can hear Hermione sobbing as she is led away. I don’t know how to feel. Part of me wants to run after her and ask her why, maybe even say goodbye, but another part of me wants to forget about her and get on with my life with Draco. I think the latter will win out; after all, he’s all I’ve ever needed. I didn’t realize that before, and as I hold him close, I softly say, "I love you, Draco." He captures my lips in a searing kiss, and the passion that I thought had died comes back full force.

We slowly make our way upstairs to Draco’s bedroom. He’s promising to get new furniture for us, from a comfy sofa to a brand new coffee table. I don’t ask why, but I have my suspicions. And believe me when I say, it’s for the best. Too many memories need to be erased; it was either that or moving house. But I don’t want to leave here, not because of her. Draco’s bed is where we shared our first sexual experience with each other, and those are memories I don’t want to forget. This is our time to heal and I’ll be damned if I’ll let a nobody like Hermione Granger ruin it for us.

As I climb into bed and snuggle up close to Draco, I feel his arms encircle my waist and pull me in closer to his body. My eyes are heavy and I let them slowly close. I want to feel him inside me right now, but I’m just so bloody tired. It’s been a gruelling few nights and sleep is beckoning me. But I am also scared. I open my eyes and lean over Draco, tracing a finger over his face, down his cheek and settling it on his lips. “Promise me you’ll never leave me, Draco,” I say. He looks at me, tears shining in his beautiful eyes.

He kisses the tip of my nose and takes my hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss each digit. “I promise, Harry. I will never, ever leave you, or hurt you or make you cry again. You have my word. I love you, baby. And… will you promise me something too?” I nod my head while grinning goofily at him. “Promise me that the next time you go out, you will remember to take your bloody jacket.”

Only Draco could think of something like that at a time like this. We both agree to sleep, wrapped up together so tightly that a crane wouldn’t be able to pull us apart. Sex can wait until the morning. It will be better that way, at least we’ll be awake and alert. He kisses me soundly and then I give in to the much needed sleep my body is craving.

**************

Hermione’s POV

I’m beginning to feel it now, the regret and the remorse at the way I behaved towards my closest friend. As I sit alone in an empty park, listening to the rain splashing on the ground, I begin to cry. I can’t fix what I’ve done, I know that. I hate myself right now and I’d do anything to have that Time-Turner that was so useful to Harry and me in our third year. God, what have I done? When I left the house earlier, I had no idea where I was going. I just kept walking, hoping that it would lead me as far away from this world as possible. But no such luck.

I had thought about going to see Ginny, but then I would have to explain to her why I was carrying my clothes and a few possessions around with me. I don’t think I would have been able to listen to her sobbing over losing Harry, as a potential boyfriend, to Draco, of all people. I’m not against same sex relationships, far from it. But what I am against is seeing one of my best friends make an arse of himself with someone he says he’s in love with. Okay, they may love each other, but Draco has never had a decent bone in his body; surely he hasn't changed that much, has he? He would rob his own mother if he could get away with it. But Harry loves him, so that’s all that matters, right?

I must have dozed off at some point during my time at the park because I remember waking up from a strange dream. Now I think about it, I’m beginning to wonder if it was a dream or if it was actually real. In the dream, Ron was following me around, sneering and shouting obscenities at me. He told me I’d better make things right with Harry and Draco or he would haunt my dreams, and they wouldn’t be pleasant. Hell, I wondered if they could become more unpleasant than the one I’d had already. However, it shook me a bit and now as I sit here, alone, I have the strangest feeling that I am being watched. Maybe it was Ron, but he’s dead, right? I saw him die, I went to his funeral and… and ghosts can’t harm humans, can they?

It was that thought which made me decide to hand myself in to the local police. I have to do something to repay Harry for the pain I’ve caused.

I am led into a room with white walls and a table with four chairs positioned around it. On my left is a tape recorder that will tape everything I say. I wonder if it would have been easier to hand myself over to the Aurors for questioning. That way I could let them see my memories instead of telling every sordid little detail to the Muggle police. But here I am; it was too late to turn back. I start at the very beginning, from the first time I met Harry to the last time I’d seen him. I’ll never forget the look on his face; it will haunt me for the rest of my days. As will Ronald, if my dreams are anything to go by. I’m better off spilling my guts out to two complete strangers. I tell them I had attempted to let Draco die a slow agonizing death and leave the carnage behind for Harry. I can’t tell them about the Imperius Potion; it would mean exposing the Wizarding World, I’ve already done enough damage. I won’t do anymore.

They look down on me as though I am something that has just crawled out from under a rock. By the time I’ve finished my story, I am crying and asking for my dad. I really don’t want to face my parents, but I have to tell them I am sorry. Maybe they can let Harry and Draco know. I wasn’t at the time, but now I’ve had a few hours to think about things, I really am so sorry.

Before I know what is happening, I am pulled roughly from the chair and handcuffed. I am read my rights… you have the right to remain silent… blah blah blah and then led away and bundled into a police car. I have no idea where they are taking me, but the terror shows on my face when the car pulls into the large driveway of what used to be my home, the one I shared with my best friend. I begin to feel sick when I see the empty space that is usually occupied by Harry’s car. My stomach lurches and I begin to mumble incoherently as I realise Harry may be dead.

The officers haul me out of the car, and push me forward. They say they have brought me here to give me the chance to say sorry and beg for forgiveness. I am willing to try at least, especially with Harry, if he is there.

And he was a very irate Harry, yelling and cursing. Not that I blame him really. I’d yell, too, if the boot was on the other foot. I try to open my mouth to speak and just as I find my voice, Draco cut in. If I thought Harry’s words were scathing, Draco’s are worse. He makes me feel worthless and ashamed in a matter of seconds, and the apology dies on my lips when I hear the horrible word he used for me at school. Mudblood, that one word made my insides hurt. Harry would defend me every time Draco used it, but not this time. He just stands there and says nothing. My whole world just shatters in that moment. He hates me, it’s as clear as his famous scar. I don’t deserve his forgiveness, not that he is going to give it anyway, and when the door slams in my face, I burst into tears.

Now I sit alone, awaiting my fate and my parents. I have no friends now, but I’ll treasure every memory I have of the happy times I shared with Harry and, of course, Ron. Memories of school, the Chamber of Secrets, the Polyjuice incident, everything. I’ll hold them close to my heart forever. I hope Harry and Draco survive my wrong doing and if I ever get the chance, I will say sorry.

Look after them for me; I don’t deserve their friendship anymore. I really hope I die in prison. Anything is better than living with the guilt. I guess I was too clever at school for my own good. I’ll leave you now as I prepare myself for my ten years in a psychiatric unit at the local Muggle same sex prison. I may even write a long letter to Harry pleading insanity and wishing him well. But then again, maybe not.

The End.