Draco stayed pressed against her and still inside her for several seconds and then he abruptly tensed and pulled away. His expression was drawn, and he didn't even look at her as he snatched his clothing off the floor. He pulled his pants and trousers on.
Hermione slowly sat up, watching him carefully. He was growing progressively paler and paler as he redressed. His expression was both disbelieving and horrified.
“Fuck— ” he said under his breath, dragging his hand through his hair.
He seemed strangely devastated.
He clapped his hand over his mouth and looked over, meeting her eyes. Whatever was dawning on him seemed to be giving him a panic attack.
He swallowed visibly, closed his eyes and pulled on his shirt. Then he opened his eyes. He seemed to have composed himself. He drew a deep breath and turned to her. His expression was tense.
As he looked at her, his eyes dropped to her legs and he blanched white.
“You were a virgin?” His voice was rasping.
Hermione glanced down. There was blood on her thighs.
“Yes,” she said. ”When you first gave your terms, it was assumed that was how you'd want me.”
Malfoy looked like he was about to be sick. His jaw was clenched as he just kept staring at her.
“I—” his voice failed him.
“I — would have been gentler — if I had known,” he finally said.
Hermione pressed her knees together to hide it and drew her legs closer to her body. “I didn't really want you to be.”
He pressed his lips together. He looked strangely lost.
She couldn't understand how it added up. Why giving in and fucking her was somehow a decisive stroke.
Maybe it was. After he'd kissed her when they were both drunk, there had been a distinct line he'd drawn. One that he'd been furiously assiduous about maintaining.
If he'd expected her to kill him in the end, he may have found the idea of crossing it unbearable.
But it didn't explain everything else he'd done. If he expected her to sell him out, why climb? Why try to remove the Dark Mark?
It had to be related to the runes. If he'd been torn, and he'd clearly been torn, then it may have tipped the scales. Maybe he couldn't change course now. It was set. Obsessive. Possessive. She had him; possibly forever, if she was cunning enough to use it.
There was something ironic about seducing someone in the hope it might somehow save their life. Her mouth quirked faintly at the corner.
She gripped her knee; her hands were shaking faintly.
She'd gotten what she wanted. She'd grieve over the cost later, when she had space for it. She slammed her occlumency walls into place. She wasn't going to think about anything but the immediate situation.
She had him. For whatever reason, she had him. Now she had to find a way to take advantage of it.
He noticed her expression.
“You seem pleased,” he said in a bitter voice, his lip curling, “to have successfully whored yourself. Happy to know you've got your chess piece locked in place?”
She didn't flinch at the insult. She closed her hands slowly into fists and then forced herself to open them. “That was my job,” she said quietly. There was no point in trying to deny it. “You have to have known that was my mission.”
“Of course,” he said in an empty tone, looking away from her. His arms were hanging limp, and as though he suddenly didn't know what to do with himself. “I just — I never thought you'd actually succeed. I didn't want you — when I demanded you — I didn't actually want you.”
“I know.” She looked away. “I realised that everything at the beginning was an act.” Her skin was hurting from the cold. The shack had never been heated, but she hadn't realised how cold it was until then.
He gave a choked laugh under his breath as he looked back at her. “Of course.”
There was a pause. Hermione started pulling her clothes on. Draco looked away.
“I wasn't going to betray your Order,” he finally said in a dead voice. “I was never going to. You were already losing when I came, and you're probably still going to lose now. But — I never really cared. I didn't turn because of that. I wanted to avenge my mother. I was perfectly willing to die in the process.” He stared down at the floor. “Unfortunately, by the time I had an opportunity to offer my services, she had been dead too long. It wasn't a 'plausible' explanation.”
The bitterness on his face was unadulterated. He rolled his jaw and looked up at the ceiling, tilting his head back. “I wasn't aware there was a time limit on grief.”