#acheivements

The Red String of Fate/Originally Published Feb 2018. 

"Just answer a question for me first: do you want this relationship to work for you? I mean, don't you at least want to give it a fair chance?"

"What kind of question is that?" she sputtered, turning back to him. "Of course I do. Would I have ever accepted his advances if I didn't?"

"Then you have to accept why I'm doing this, okay?" She blinked. "Tonight is the last night I'll stay over." Draco expected her eyes to water, for her to tear up and declare in a voice that was just so her, that she would find a way to make it work.

However, it seemed she'd realized in the same instant that it just wasn't feasible. "I see." she breathes heavily. "I'm thrilled that you have decided what I want, asking me a question like that and then twisting my words!"

"Hermione!" he shouted when she sprung to her feet, grabbing her trainers from beside the door. "Where are you going? It's freezing outside."

"I suppose I'll walk over to the Weasleys' since you've gotten it into your head that I trust him more, that I'd rather him sleep beside me." she threw her hands up, opening the door.

"Wait a bloody second." he snarled, hands coming down on her waist. "You're the one twisting words now." She glares at him as he turns her, the bedroom door shutting with a thud behind her. "Do not, I'm serious, stop smirking, tell me I'd rather you crawl into his bed so he can fucking cuddle you."

Her eyes widen for a moment, and he thinks he's caught as the wheels in her head turn. And there's a flicker, something small that will raise a doubt in the months to follow, but she doesn't confront him. "I've always been protective of you, haven't I?"

Hermione glances at his arms, his sleeves shoved up from when he grabbed her, that are on either side of her head while his palms are planted on the door. She nodded as she's caged between him and the wall, though their bodies don't touch. "I also know you would never hurt me, so being grabbed by you in particular doesn't make me panic." She looked up at him, eyes full of the emotions that he cannot even begin to sift through.

"In hindsight, I shouldn't have manhandled you at all, but you're not the only one who reacts impulsively." he replied, watching as her eyes dart from his chest to his gaze.

"You always say that I'm the one who jumps before thinking. You hardly ever do."

"True, but every time I do, it's always because of you." Silence, and then, "Nothing to say?" she shook her head. "I'd draft a list of all the reasons I don't like him, but they wouldn't be enough for you. So let's start with this: every time you're alone with him, I'm terrified I get that call again. That I miss it, and you're hurting somewhere without me there to make it better."

"Oh, fuck." she whimpered, bringing her palms to her eyes to wipe the tears away harshly.

The Red String of Fate/Rewritten February 2020

His eyes flicked to hers. “Do you want this relationship with him to work?” 

Turning toward him, Hermione swallowed. “What kind of question is that? Do you think I would have agreed to date him if I didn’t?” 

Draco raked his fingers through his hair. “After tonight, I’m not going to stay over anymore.” He paused, his eyes searching her face—likely for the onset of tears—and his hand fell to his side. 

She wanted to make it work. 

She wanted to still have him, but it struck her that it truly wasn’t feasible at all. 

“I see.” Her tone was bitter and she didn’t reach for him. 

That seemed to shock him more than anything else. 

“How lucky am I to have you to decide what’s best for me.” Hermione snatched her trainers from the floor, and didn’t bother to put them on before spinning toward the door. She’d just wait until she was far away from him. 

Her name fell away from him in a rasp. His features have softened as long, slender fingers wrap around the crook of her elbow. “It’s freezing outside.” 

“I’m going to walk over to the Weasleys,” Hermione wrenched her arm free. “Since you’ve decided that I must trust him more than you, I’ll just ask him to sleep with me.” 

Hands closed around her waist, and he spun her. 

Her back met the wall, and she was caged against him. “You’re the one twisting words now.” Draco’s fingers climb the ladder of her ribs, and it shouldn’t have been as distracting as it was. “Don’t tell me I’d rather you crawl into his bed so he can fucking cuddle you.” 

The thought almost formed, but a smirk on her lips cut it short. 

“Wipe that smirk off your face.” 

Her fingers brushed the hem of his shirt. 

“I’ve always been protective of you, Granger. You know that.” It’s shown in the way he didn’t allow their bodies to touch. 

Unable to reply, Hermione focused on the veins that stood out from his forearms—where his sleeves were pushed up. “I know. It’s the only reason I’m not scared when you do this.” She motioned between them. 

“I shouldn’t have manhandled you.” His tongue slid along his lower lip. “I acted impulsively.” 

“That’s my job.” Hermione fidgeted with as loose strand of his jumper. “You never jump before thinking.” 

He laughed, and it sounded miserable. “I do whenever it’s you. I could prattle off reasons why I don’t like him, but they wouldn’t be enough for you. So, I’ll start with this,” Draco’s voice lowered. “Everytime you’re alone with him, I am fucking terrified that I get that call again. That you’re alone, and hurting somewhere without me there to make it better.”