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I Never Apologized

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Hermione had been convinced that the banging on her door had been a dream until she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, the sound still vibrating from across her home. She lived in a modest, two bedroom flat that was close to work. She preferred walking to The Ministry rather then using the floo so she could take a few extra minutes to herself each morning to stop for coffee and a scone. As she dragged her feet out of bed and towards the door, she glanced at the clock above the stove to see it was close to midnight. Assuming it was Harry, her only muggleborn friend who would bother knocking, she didn't bother changing her clothes before swinging the door open.


"Harry, it's the middle of the night." She muttered, pressing her palms into her eyes without seeing who stood in front of her. If her eyes had been opened, she would've witnessed the tall, athletic blonde taking in her attire deliberately.

Malfoy leaned against the railing of her small front porch, still buzzed on the firewhisky he'd shared with Blaise and Harry that night, remembering their earlier conversation.


"How come you never invite Granger out with us after work?" Blaise asked, the group on their fourth round of drinks. Malfoy had to admit, he'd wondered this as well. Even Ron made the occasional appearance at their weekly Friday bar nights. Ginny, Luna, and even at times Neville too.


Before Harry could think of a noncommited response, the truth slipped out as the alcohol had loosened his lips far too much that evening.


"She thinks Draco hates her." He said, eyes widening as the words tumbled from his mouth, shooting his blonde coworker an apologetic look.


"Why would she think that? You've apologized to her since the end of the war, right mate?" Blaise asked, slapping his friend on the back before signaling for another round as the waitress passed their table.


Harry found himself curious at this response as well, always wondering why the two of them never made up like he'd been able to.


"I tried a few times last year back when everything settled. Around the same time I smoothed things over with Potter." He explained, downing the last of his drink before accepting the new one with relief, taking another long swig. "She all but ran from me." He finished, biting the inside of his lip and pushing his platinum hair back from his face anxiously.


"She has a hard time seeing you." Harry revealed. "Even just in the halls at work. You know, they kept her separate from us when Ron and I were locked in the dungeons. She still hasn't told me the whole story, but apparently your father use to pay her visits in the middle of the night and-" Harry has to stop himself from saying anymore, taking his fresh firewhisky and downing it in a single gulp.


"How did I not know about this?" Draco seethed, his jaw rigid, anger coursing through his veins enough to make magic sear his fingertips.


"She didn't tell anyone. I wish I didn't say anything. This is what happens when I drink too much and people let me talk." He exclaimed, asking the waitress for a tall glass of water before slamming his head down on the table with regret.

"You're telling me that for a year, she's been running from me because I remind her of my father? Who did god knows what to her in the dungeons of MY childhood home?" He reiterated, barely able to get the words out through his clenched teeth.


Harry shook his head, thanking the redheaded witch who set not one, but three glasses of water in front of them. He gulped the whole thing down before answering. "No, she runs from you because she thinks you must have known about the things he did to her and simply don't give a shit." Harry clarified, stealing Blaises water and downing it with a sigh.


"Did you talk to her after everything? Set the record straight?" Malfoy asked, looking at the dark skinned wizard beside him.


"Sure." He said as if it was obvious. "After all the shit we put her through, you bet your ass I apologized. She never did anything to me, after all." He shrugged, grabbing his cloak from around his chair, sliding it on unsteadily. "I've got to be off. It's almost 12 and I like to be in bed before one, even on a weekend. As always, it's been fun, mates." He saluted them playfully before stepping out of the bar and into the cool, summer night air.


"I had no idea what my father did with his time most of my life. Making trips down the the dungeons to torture your friend was not something I was made aware of." It was very important to him that Potter understood this.


"Maybe now is a good a time as any to clear the air." Harry suggested, pulling his own cloak on and walking outside with Draco. He pointed down the street, well past the businesses and restaurants, towards a small strip of residential homes. "12 houses down. Number 109. The porch light is always on, and there's two black chairs on the front porch." Before Malfoy could argue, Harry was gone, having apparated back to his own flat for a heavy, well deserved rest at the end of a busy work week.


"Not Potter." He said softly, alcohol still buzzing through his veins as he took in her restless appearance. The petite witch was standing in a pair of black, cotton shorts, her feet bare, showing off lavender painted toenails. A black sports bra was all she wore on top, her entire midsection visible, her hair pulled back from her face in a messy ponytail.


Hermione’s eyes shot open, wide awake immediately at the sound of his voice. "Shouldn't you be down the street with him at the bar? Did he drink too much? Do I need to go get him?" She rattled off, crossing her arms over her stomach and doing everything she could to make herself smaller.


He simply shook his head, using every ounce of self restraint he possessed to look her in the eyes, even with her body so inviting just an arms reach away. He closed his eyes briefly, reeling in his willpower before opening them again to see her slightly confused face. "I was hoping to talk to you for a moment. Maybe you'd be more comfortable doing so out here?" He suggested, gesturing to the chairs sitting across from each other on her wooden porch.


She considered his words for a moment before nodding. "Let me put some clothes on."


"As much as I'd love to stop you, it would probably help me focus." He conceded, earning a small grin in response.


"Sit down." She laughed lightly. "I'll be right out." She left the front door ajar as she walked back into her bedroom. She swiped the remainder of sleep from her hazel eyes and tugged on a pair of black leggings and a deep red sweatshirt.


"Not sure that will help me focus, but alright." He muttered, watching the curve of her ass as she walked past him, sitting in the opposite chair.


"Do wizards and witches not wear this kind of stuff just for lounging around the house? I never understood the dress code you all stick so rigorously to." She muttered, making conversation.


"No, I do not know any witches who spend their free time in such tight, nearly see through pants. Not that I’m complaining." He clarified, resting his elbows on his knees, leaning towards her just a little more. She sat back, pulling her legs underneath her in the over sized seat.


"So, what exactly brings you here this late at night? I'm not sure the two of us have ever spoken outside of the occasional workplace meetings." She asked, fiddling nervously with the zipper on her hoodie.


"To be truthful, I'm a little drunk, and I wanted to have this conversation with you before I sobered up and lost my nerve." He started, watching her expressive, honey colored eyes shining back at him. When she didn't speak, he took that as permission to continue. "Potter informed me today that you are under the impression that I hate you." He said matter of factly. She blinked back, stunned at his honesty.

"Well, yes." She shrugged, as if the sting in her chest at that fact didn't deeply upset her. "I thought that was something we knew about one another."


"I'm the one who should so deservingly be hated by you. I assumed the mere sight of me brought back painful memories, so I did my best to stay as far away from you as possible."


"I don't hate you." She whispered simply, unable to find words further then that as his response clouded her mind. She pulled the band from her head, shaking out her curls for something to do, needing to keep her hands busy before a panic attack had a chance to settle into her bones.


"You fucking should." He said sharply, glancing up at her, worried his tone had made her shrink back. Instead she laughed, brushing the tangles in her hair out with her fingers as chocolate waves spilled over her shoulders.


"Well, too bad." She challenged, pushing her hair back confidently and folding her hands across her lap.


"I don't hate you either. Maybe I did when we were kids because I was brought up to believe it, but even as we got older, my heart was never in it." He explained, his steel eyes focused in on hers for the very first time. They were a beautiful shade of brown. So light, with flecks of gold and amber shining through the darker irises.


"I'm a muggleborn." She shrugged again. "That hasn't changed."


"Wouldn't want it to change." He replied positively, his chin still resting against his laced knuckles.


"Thank you for clearing that all up." She nodded, standing as he did the same, and walking back to her front door. "Maybe I'll come for a drink next time with Harry and we can all get to know each other better." She offered, holding her hand out as a gesture of goodwill. He took it, pulling her forward until she crashed against his chest, a small gasp of surprise escaping her full, pink lips.


"I rather you let me take you out for drinks, just the two of us." He whispered, wrapping his arm around her waist while his other hand held her face. He ran his index finger along her jaw as she smiled back at him.


"Harry gets very loose lipped when he drinks. What else did he say tonight?" She asked, trying unsuccessfully to keep her voice casual. Draco ran his index finger down her neck until he traced the collarbone hidden beneath her sweater.


"He told me about the dungeons." He revealed dismally.


Her eyes flashed as she attempted to step back, but he only held her tighter against his chest. "I have zero contact with Lucius since he's been in Azkaban. He abused my mother and now, apparently you as well. I have no loyalty to him, and I hope our shared blood wont stop you from giving me a chance." He pleaded, wanting to at least be friends with this woman, hopefully much more one day.


"So, Harry told you everything? How he bit me?" She asked, embarrassed, raising her hand up subconsciously to skim over the back of her shoulder. His eyes narrowed in anger, magic sparking the air around them as her porch light shattered violently with a loud pop. She jumped, turning to see the damage as glass rained down onto her cement landing.


"Ok, apparently not. Sit back down." She ordered, pushing him into the seat. He didn't let go of her waist, pulling her with him instead. She fell against his knee, his fingers squeezing her hip and holding her against him easily. His body was warm, heating her up against the cold evening air. His hands ran over her thigh, calming himself enough to speak.


"He bit you?" He breathed, his jaw tense as she slung an arm over his shoulders to keep herself balanced in his lap. Her other hand went back to her shoulder again before he pulled it away, trapping it against his chest. "Let me see." He whispered, turning her around, grasping her waist.


He brought his knees together, giving her space to sit. Her back faced him as she pulled her hair over one shoulder, giving him permission to look. Draco reached around her body, dragging the zipper of her sweatshirt down slowly. He stopped between her breasts, his hands at her back now to push the fabric fully off her shoulders.


The imprint of sharp teeth on her shoulder blade was still angry and risen, a dark rim of red around the mark. He brushed his fingers over the bite as she stiffened, her voice catching in her throat. She didn't know why she showed him such a personal, scarring injury. Only Harry had known this happened to her in the dungeons of the Manor.


When she felt his lips ghost over the wound, she spun around quickly, stunned. "What are you doing?" She whispered, searching his eyes for an answer.


"I should've done something." He muttered, grabbing her face roughly. "You would've gone your entire life never telling me this happened because you thought I was part of it."


She shrugged sheepishly, shrinking away from his touch even as he held her cheeks. "I thought you knew what he was doing and just didn't care. I knew you and Harry had become friends, but you never hated him as much as you hated me." She pointed out.


He opened his mouth to speak, but the words got lost in his throat. Instead, he pulled her face forward until his lips crashed against hers. "I hated Potter way more then you." He smirked against her mouth, closing his eyes as her nails scrapped against his skull, running her fingers through his hair.


"I'm sorry this happened to you. I'm even more sorry I didn't do anything to stop it." He dragged his lips down her jaw, placing hot, open mouth kisses against her throat as her head fell back. Her hoodie slipped further down her bare shoulders, the cotton material pooling half zipped around her waist.


"Inside." She breathed, her hands pushing up his shirt until she could pull it over his head. Her legs hooked around his waist as he stood, tossing his shirt to the ground outside before he pushed them through the front door.


His fingers dug into her thighs deliciously as he held her up, her arms wrapped around his strong shoulders. She kissed him eagerly, pushing her tongue into his mouth and earning a low, deep growl from the blonde.


Barely a second later, her back slammed against the mattress she'd risen from only an hour before, the blankets still crumpled from sleep. He climbed over her smoothly, pressing against her body while her back arched to meet him. Nails raked across his bare back while he reached between them, pushing her tiny shorts down her legs. She kicked them off easily and shed her hoodie, his lips dragging over her jaw and trailing down her neck. Her breath hitched as his teeth dug into her pulse point, sucking hard on the skin there. His pants joined hers on the floor before he slid her panties down, the small scrap of fabric added to the pile.


Draco pulled back to look her in the eyes, barely enough light from the moon shining through her curtains to illuminate the space between them. "I didn't come here with the intention of sleeping with you. I wanted to apologize and-" She cut him off with a hurried kiss which he eagerly return, taking her bottom lip between his teeth gently.


"Apology accepted." She panted, tearing his boxers away and spreading her fingers across his back. "Now fuck me, please." She whispered sweetly, locking her ankles around his hips before he pushed a single finger into her.


Her hips rose to meet each thrust, a high pitched gasp escaping her lips when he gripped the side of her thigh, his fingers spreading across her ass easily. Draco bowed his head into the crook of her neck, his tongue marking from her collar bone down to the top of her breast. When he pulled her nipple between his teeth, her nails sunk into his shoulder blades, a breathy moan slipping from her mouth.


"You've always been such a pretty witch," he started, his tongue giving her body the attention it deserved as it dragged down her abdomen, stopping just below her navel. "But you've been hiding just how delicious you really are." He smirked up at her as she threw an arm over her eyes, her chest rising with heavy breathing.


Draco pressed feather light kisses to the inside of her thigh, pushing two fingers inside of her slowly. He felt her body tense as he withdrew them lazily, looking up at the way she bit her lip from the teasing.


"You're not being very nice." She whimpered, slamming her head back against the pillow when he withdrew his fingers all together and trailed them down her soaking wet folds.


"If I'm so mean, tell me to leave." He dared, dragging his tongue over her clit lazily, teasing her. The room was nearly pitch black, but he could see see her fists gripping the sheets, her lip still between her teeth.


"Leave." She challenged, pushing up on her elbows and crossing her knees, pushing him out from between her legs. He looked back at her, arms strong and straining with muscle as he crawled back over her. He pushed one leg between her knees, forcing them apart as she smiled, arching a brow as he leaned down to kiss her.


"You want me to leave, or should I just try to be a little nicer?" He asked, palming her breast and pinching her nipple between two long fingers. She wrapped her hands around his hard biceps, pulling him up her body until he settled comfortably between her legs.


"I don't think you know how to be nice." She provoked, gripping the back of his neck and pulling him down for a kiss. He smirked against her mouth, pushing his tongue in easily.


"I think you like it when I'm mean." He taunted, pushing two fingers back into her without warning. She gasped into his mouth, stretching her hips up to meet his thrusts eagerly. "Such a good girl." He whispered against her ear, biting it gently as she ran her soft hands over his hard, muscular back.


She whispered his name warmly before he flipped them, setting her easily over his lap. Her knees hit either side of his hips, leaning down until her chest pressed against his. "I can be mean too." She threatened, rising up on her knees just enough to slide back down over his hard cock. His head slammed back as she rode him for all of three thrusts before easing off, trailing kisses down his chest with a smile.


A frustrated complaint was ready on his lips, but it fell away when she wrapped her warm mouth around his full length, swirling her tongue expertly around the tip of his cock. She settled between his legs while he pushed the hair away from her face, enjoying the power she held over him as he looked down at her with a complete loss of control.


She dragged her mouth over the impressive length for a few more minutes before he grunted in frustration and laced his fingers through the back of her head, tangled in unruly curls. He pulled her up his body, flipping her onto her back and pressed down roughly on top of her. He swallowed the gasp that escaped her mouth as he sunk into her, her walls tight around him with each thrust.


"You still want me to leave, Granger?" He dared, kissing down her neck as he slammed even harder into her center. She sunk her own teeth into his shoulder as pleasure coursed through her veins, her legs like jelly as he took control.


She shook her head, unable to find the words as his pace quickened. "No?" He goaded, brushing the back of his hand over her cheek, admiring the olive skin and small patch of freckles that decorated her nose.


Hermione was too close to falling over the edge, pleasure ripping through her. Instead of using words, she wrapped her legs tighter around his hips, urging him on harder.


"Take it." He growled, licking a ribbon of skin across her collarbone. He felt her nod against him, hips rising to meet his, harder each time. "Good girl." He praised, kissing the skin across her neck as he felt her come underneath him. Her walls tightened, the sensation enough to drag him over the edge right along with her.


Draco was fairly certain he'd never seen a more appealing sight then the warm liquid spilling down her thighs. He covered her body again, kissing her lips for a long, drawn out moment before falling down beside her.


"I appreciate you coming over to apologize." She whispered, looking over at him with a knowing smile, both taking a moment to even out their breathing.


"I didn't expect it to be so well received." He admitted, enjoying the view of her bare body as she propped herself up and turned towards him, pressing a hand against his chest. She ran her fingers down the thin, white scar that covered the length of his chest and abdomen.


"Don't look at me with those big, sad eyes." He teased, tipping her chin up with a single finger, kissing her lightly. "At least mine can be covered with a shirt." He pointed out, dragging his fingers across her forearm where the angry red letters still bubbled up over her skin, just as fresh as the day they were carved.


"I've tried everything to get rid of it." She shrugged, watching his eyes flood with guilt. "I'm okay." She whispered, her fingers ghosting over his jaw.


"I still remember that scream of yours, ripping through the drawing room like nothing I'd ever heard before." He reminisced morosely. "I felt something for you, even then."


"We found our way to each other in the end." She smiled, burying her face in the warmth of his neck before drifting off into an easy sleep.