Nothing Like You and I

A/N: I liked writing this chapter. It's a little sad but there will be more happier chapters coming up. As well as more chapters involving a certain delicious father, ahem.

Thank you everyone for reviewing and rating the story! You don't know how much it means to me!

scarletwitchextreme - I am glad you are enjoying this story! I look forward to your reviews. When I wrote that little touching scene, I pictured it all in my head like a movie. It was a million times better in my imagination stupid words that can't capture their faces. URGH!


Songs:


* Flashes of Life *
Winterpill – Handkerchief
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S7-xf3lZdPw
(it's a really crappy version of the song but I couldn't find any other ones on youtube. Drat)


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The scene unraveled and Hermione was standing back in Snape’s office. Her cheeks were flushed but she gave no other indication that she was being, as Snape put it, ‘emotional.’ Instead, she brought her large wide eyes to Snape, who had already scooped that memory out of the basin and replaced it with a few smaller ones.

“Say nothing until you have seen them all, Ms. Granger,” Snape said, ushering her back to the basin.

Flashes of Life

Instantly, Hermione was pulled into another silvery memory. Everything was in black and white for a moment before there was a bust of colors. She was in a room but some place she wasn’t aware of at all. Small little snippets of her memories glanced in front of her. Little things she wouldn’t have though relevant until they all flickered in order.

Draco brushing his hand against hers when they passed. Draco sitting at a table near her, flicking wads of parchment at her and winking. Little notes passed between the two. Hermione sneaking off to see Draco play Quidditch. Draco stealing Hermione while walking to class where he pushed her into an empty classroom and closed the door with his foot only to reemerge a few moments later disheveled but happy. Snogging sessions with Draco near the restricted section where they were caught by Theodore Nott. Christmas gifts from Draco during her fifth and sixth year. Kissing under the mistletoe. Looking awkward at Madam Puddifoot’s tea shop in the middle of winter. Holding hands under the table during Potions. Draco creating diversions so she and the DA could escape when Umbridge was looking for them. Draco. Draco. Draco.

And now, now she realized where she was. The Room of Requirement. The lights were dim but a noise from behind her startled her. She tip toed over what looked like Quidditch gear, in Slytherin colors, strewn across the floor followed by a skirt, blouse, knickers and a bra. Hermione’s frown turned into utter shock when she looked up and at a large king sized canopy bed. A long flowing white sheer curtain barely covered the pair but she could make out the figures quite well – especially when a hand shot out and pulled the curtain back.

Draco was on his back, grunting softly, with a sheen of sweat across his muscled chest while she was perched a top him, moaning and rocking her hips. Her seventeen year old self was shagging Malfoy! And what was worse, the sight caused elder Hermione to flush instantly. Draco’s hands traveled up her younger self’s body, feeling her soft skin under his touch.

He felt the weight of her breasts with each palm, kneading them and twisting her perky nipples. Hermione responded with a low moan, rocking her hips wantonly against him. She tilted her head back as Draco leaned forward, using one hand to prop himself up. His lips traced over the smooth center of her neck as he rocked his hips upward. He moved his hand lower, resting it on her lower back to gain more vantage and rolled his hips harder into her.

“Draco,” Hermione heard her younger counterpart whisper, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Hermione,” Draco replied against her throat, grinding her faster on top of him.

He rolled over, laying her gently on her back and propped himself up with his elbow. Draco’s hips moved in smooth swift motions, the sound of their skin slapping against each other were masked by their mutual moans. Her thin legs were brought up to his hips as he leaned forward, diving his length into her quicker. Elder Hermione couldn’t make out what he was saying to her, whispering against her skin, but whatever it was turned her younger self bright pink. Draco’s hand slipped between them and with a small scream, Hermione arched her back as his thumb pushed against her clit, rolling it in a circular motion. She exhaled and fluttered her eyes closed just as Draco placed feather light kisses onto her lids. Both sounding as if they came to a mutual, blissful climax.

Draco pulled his went slick length from her as she rolled onto her side and brought an arm around her waist. Their fingers intertwined with one another and Hermione smiled brightly at him as he looked down at her. His hair was shorter back then but also traveled down to the nape of his neck. Small beads of sweat were spotted across his forehead and chest, littered with a trail of silvery blond hair that swelled around his flaccid member. Hermione was young back then as well, her hair still bushy but in the phase from overwhelming to what it would be when she was twenty three. She had a small snatch of brown between her legs, a smooth curved body with supple breasts.

It was embarrassing to watch her younger self copulate, like anything else would be a better term at this point, with her most hated enemy. What was worse they weren’t even going at each other’s throats. Rather, they looked smitten with each other and, dare she say in love?

Hermione was about to turn, hoping that what she just witnessed was the last of the memory but no…it went on. Draco brought his lips to Hermione’s shoulder, kissing it lightly.

“I promise you,” he whispered, “I promise that I will do whatever I can to protect you.”

“You can promise that, Draco,” her younger self said, “But that won’t mean I won’t get involved. I can’t just abandon my friends.”

“I know that,” Draco replied, leaning up as Hermione shifted onto her back. “I’m just telling you that as long as you know…there will be nothing that will come between us. I will do anything in my power to protect you.”

“You sound so sentimental, I would’ve never guessed a Malfoy would gush like this,” Hermione giggled, flashing her deep brown eyes at him.

“Even a Malfoy can become vulnerable. You should hear how my father speaks to my mother. Sometimes the images of their romance are burned permanently into my eyes.” He shuddered, causing Hermione to laugh some more.

Elder Hermione snorted, just as this image will scar my eyes for life!.

“Draco?” seventeen year old Hermione whispered, bringing a hand to his face to brush his hair from his forehead, “I love you.”

Draco smirked and leaned down, brushing his lips against hers, “I love you, too. Even though you still annoy me.”

“Mmm,” Hermione moaned into the kiss, “You ruin every possible romantic moment between us, you do realize that right?”

“Yes,” Draco nodded, “But it wouldn’t be the same if I pampered you like everyone else, now would it?”

“No. Not at all.” Hermione leaned up and kissed him again, rolling him onto his back, “So…how about another go? Prefect duties should be over in another half an hour…”

Draco grinned, “You saucy minx, you. C’mere!” He rolled Hermione onto her back and covered them both up with a pale sheet, both giggling and laughing.

Elder Hermione had seen enough at that moment and promptly covered her ears and slammed her eyes closed. Oh, this was not going well at all.

The room swirled around her once more and she found herself standing in the Headmaster’s office – but one where Dumbledore still lived in. Draco was standing beside Hermione, their hands clasped in front of them just staring blindly into the fire. He glanced at her, but she didn’t look at him. Elder Hermione noticed that she looked dejected and alone, scared maybe but sad all rolled into one. Draco’s hand moved from his clasp and traced over her own hand, taking it into his.

“There has to be another way,” Draco whispered, bringing his lips to her hair, “I could teach you. I could show you how to shield you mind…”

“No” Hermione whispered back, looking at him, “I’m not nearly as good as you are with shelling your emotions. This is…this is the safest and best thing for me…for us.”

“Why won’t you try? Just try?” Draco asked, almost pleading, “Don’t you even think about how I might feel about this?”

“This has nothing to do with you,” Hermione said quietly, as Draco pulled his hands from her.

“Excuse me?’ He drawled, “What do you mean, ‘nothing to do with me?’ It has every fucking thing to do with me!”

“Draco, don’t make this any harder than it already will be,” she turned and looked at him with a flushed face, “This is the best thing we can do and I’m not going to let you convince me out of it.”

“What if I threaten?” Draco snarled, pulling his wand out, “If I hex you then…”

“Don’t be irrational,” Hermione groaned, “Think this through, for once. Stop acting as if you’re super-man.”

“Who is that? Never mind, it doesn’t matter,” Draco said angrily, “You’re willing to throw everything we had…have…away because you’re afraid you’ll get caught. Haven’t you ever thought about what role I play in here? I can protect you. I promised.”

“No, Draco. No you can’t.” Hermione looked at him, “You can’t protect me, just as I can’t protect you. Let’s just…let’s just move on with our lives.”

“Wha-are you breaking up with me?” Draco asked, astonished, his mouth drooping wide. Seventeen year old Hermione averted her eyes and Draco’s eyes widened with disbelief.

“It’s better that way. We go back to hating one another and everything ends up the way it’s supposed to.”

“You’re full of rubbish,” he nearly shouted, “You just want to forget about every fucking thing and what? Move on? Have yourself a bunch of little Weasley red heads when I could take so much better care of you.”

“You’re not thinking straight,” Hermione whispered, running her fingers through her hair.

“Stop acting so fucking passive!” Draco snapped, turning Hermione to him, “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you. You’re so…fuck!”

Draco pulled himself away from her and marched to the door, “You know what, Granger? Maybe this was all a sham, eh? Maybe we used each other for what we wanted and now…now things ought to be different. You may rid yourself of every fucking thing we’ve ever done but I refuse to. If I die, I will fucking haunt your blarmy arse and make you mental with the thought of what never was and what never will be.”

He slammed the door behind her, causing several things to rattle around Hermione. She flinched and fell to her knees sobbing heavily into her hands. After all this time, she would have never thought she had to come to this….

The rooms swirled once more and Hermione nearly toppled over into Snape’s chest. Hands planted firmly beside her, Snape pulled her to an upright position and crossed his arms.

“Now, you know.” He simply said, watching Hermione sit down in a chair with her hand over her mouth.

She looked at him with wide eyes and then stared at the fire, “He and I were…I was his…and he was my…”

“Yes, frightfully annoying as it was. It was real.” Snape replied nonchalantly. “There were rumors spreading of the Dark Lord wanting you to be captured and at a risk of exposing both myself and Mr. Malfoy your mind and memories were to be taken.”

“On whose authority?” Hermione snapped, “I have the right to keep those memories!”

“Why,” Snape took his seat again and templed his fingers, “It was your idea.”

“What?” her eyes widened into large white saucers. “Why would I…”

“Think about it, Ms. Granger. Compromising two spies would have resulted in Voldemort possibly gaining the strength to defeat the Order. It was you who came to Dumbledore and me and requested that we wipe those memories from you. You chose those specific memories and we altered others that were deemed less of a threat. Mr. Malfoy was offered the same opportunity but refused – he is quite skilled at hiding his thoughts. Curtsey of his late Aunt Bellatrix no doubt.”

“Oh Merlin,” Hermione leaned back against the chair and brushed back tears, “No wonder he saved me…at Nimue’s Hill. I thought he had just realized that they were going to lose and hoped we’d be lenient on him.”

“You forget that Mr. Malfoy is far more receptive and intelligent, more than you on certain occasion,” Snape shrugged. He noted Hermione’s quiet form and had to relish it. For once, Hermione Granger was speechless. “It was in his fifth year did he come to me and wish to help the Order. Not to protect his family or the world, but you. Trivial thing for a teenager I am sure but it was you that helped defeat the Dark Lord in the end. If not for your…relationship…with Draco we would have lost a lot more men and women.”

“I…I…don’t know what to say,” Hermione whispered, hiding her face in her hands.

“Perhaps now you understand why you are seeing visions of him,” Snape surmised with a quirk of his bushy brow, “Those lost memories have been plaguing you, poisoning your sanity for years. Witnessing Mr. Malfoy’s death was only a trigger.”

“No.” Snape quirked an eyebrow higher into his hair line and leaned forward, his lips parted to ask her to embellish on her word but Hermione looked up at him, “He’s not a vision. I felt him. I talk to him. He’s real. He’s…he’s…”

“A figment of your imagination. The sooner you come to terms with his death and your lost memories, the sooner you will be able to rid yourself of that guilt.” Snape replied, coming to a stand, “Now, if that is all. I have class to attend to.”

Hermione nodded quietly and stood, moving slowly to the hearth where the flames died down. She stopped when Snape placed his hand on her shoulder and looked at him.

“You didn’t…I mean others didn’t see those…”

“No. Those are memories for you and you only. Although, do not get us wrong – we knew the kind of content you would want to erase and destroy. I am not a lecherous man interested in know-it-alls,” he paused, “Always remember, Ms. Granger. Seeing things and hearing voices are still very uncommon in our world just as it is in the Muggle world. Go home. Sleep and mull over those memories. You will see,” Snape said quietly, “Not everything is magical. Some things are just in your head.”

Hermione nodded again and moved silently into the hearth, barely whispering the name of her cottage before she disappeared. Once she stepped out of her hearth, she halted.

Draco sat on the couch with one leg up on the coffee table and the other bent touching the floor. He sat up when he saw her and frowned.

“Where the bloody hell have you been?” Draco snapped, looking over her for a moment, “What’s wrong? Are you ok?”

Hermione said nothing to him but moved past him, stopping only when he leapt to his feet and blocked her from entering her bedroom.

“Tell me, what’s wrong?” He said as quietly as possible, leaning back when Hermione looked at him under her lashes.

“I remember everything.”

Draco’s arms fell and he moved to the side easily when Hermione pushed past him and walked into her room, closing the door tightly. He heard the familiar click of the lock and slumped back against the wall, breathing heavily.

“Shit. Fuck. Fucking shit.”