Hermione turned slowly, taking in her surroundings. Around her were lush rolling hills, dotted with trees and wildflowers. There were only a few small cottages on the narrow lane, and nestled inside a tiny fence, was her new home. A cozy cottage with a warm living room, kitchen and dining room, 2 bedrooms and most importantly a library that made Hermione's fingertips tingle.
The surrounding cottages were occupied by other Wizards, though they seemed to be older couples. Hermione had chosen here to live because, while it was a wizarding village, the wizards here weren't nosy and wouldn't bother her. Other wizards were prone to asking for autographs or about Harry, or worse, asking if she had married Ron yet. She liked the quiet here, it suited her much better. Hermione decided to go for a walk, the unpacking could wait until later.
Draco Malfoy sat in the parlor of his cottage, flipping lazily through The Daily Prophet, enjoying the quiet. The night before Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson had taken him to their usual pub, and he'd waken with a hangover, as usual. One hangover potion later, and he was in his normal chair by the window.
That's where he was when he saw her, walking down the lane. He noticed the gentle way her hips swayed, the way she trailed her delicate hand across the tops of the flowers that lined the road. He felt a strange warmth spread through him, something he'd never felt before. But he felt the warmth grow cold when his eyes settled on the mountain of curly hair escaping a loose bun on top of her head. He'd recognize that mess anywhere.
Hermione Granger. He watched curiously as she neared his cottage, raising her eyes to admire the horizon. He couldn't help but wonder what she was doing here, before realizing he'd heard that the old Abbott cottage had been sold. She must have bought it. He was surprised to find he didn't feel any negative feelings towards her, or the idea that she lived just right up the lane. Shaking his head, he turned to go to the kitchen, planning on making lunch and pretending he wasn't more curious about her.
Hermione neared another lone cottage, and found herself drawn to one of the windows. She sensed movement and thought there was a glimpse of white, which reminded her of something that she couldn't quite put her finger on. However the windows outlined nothing but darkness and Hermione began to wonder if she had imagined it. Shrugging her shoulders, she continued down the lane.
The scenery was stunning, and Hermione felt more at peace than she had in a long while. Her job at the Ministry was demanding, and little moments like these helped her unwind. Anytime she stepped out in public she was bombarded with reporters, asking her invasive questions about every aspect of her life, and her friends' lives. Things between her and Ron had been strained since she turned him down months ago, which also made it hard for Harry to be around them. That and he and Ginny were consumed in planning their wedding. Aside from them, Hermione had no other friends, so she found herself alone often. She didn't mind it most days but she still craved real human connections.
Hermione crested the hill and stopped to take in the view. Below her was a quaint village, just a few minutes walk away. Everything else looked much like the view from her cottage, rolling hills and all. However, to her left, a few meters off the road stood a beautiful old tree with a thick trunk. Hermione thought it would be the perfect place to sit and read, but today she turned to head back home. There was plenty of time to come back and read another day, but today she needed to unpack.
The next Saturday found Draco where he always was in the evenings, the local pub. He was early meeting Pansy and Blaise, as usual. They were always late showing up, which annoyed him immensely. He ordered a pint before settling into their usual table, eager to get the night over with.
A year ago he had thoroughly enjoyed these nights, but he'd quickly learned that no matter how much he drank, he'd still have nightmares, and he'd still wake up alone. So he adapted. He preferred to be alone now, but continued going out with his friends so they wouldn't worry. They noticed his mood changes so he was careful to come across as okay.
He glanced around, wondering how late the two would be this week. Instead of finding their faces, he found himself making eye contact with Hermione. Her mouth was slightly agape, and her eyes were widened. She was clearly shocked to see him, and he wasn't so sure his face didn't mirror her own.
Before either one of them could react, Pansy and Blaise burst through the doors,distracting Draco for the rest of the night. However, throughout the night he found his eyes inexplicably drawn to her, sitting in the corner sipping wine and reading.
Hermione had planned to spend the day in the village. It was much too small to have very much to do but there were a few shops to explore. She was just about to head home when she spotted the pub. She decided to stop in and have a glass of wine, it had been a particularly tough week at work and she needed to relax. Besides, the local book store had given her enough reading material to last weeks and she was eager to start.
She stepped through the doors, looking around for a good seat, when her eyes landed on Draco Malfoy. He was looking down at his drink and hadn't seen her yet. She was surprised to see him, it had been a few years since the last time they had been around each other. She wondered if he lived nearby.
He obviously looked older, and his hair had grown out a bit. He no longer slicked it back, instead he let it fall naturally. He had the shadow of a beard, and he had filled out more with age. He looked like a man now, not a little boy.
But that's not what struck Hermione the most. He looked sad. She could practically feel how lonely he was. She was so enraptured at the feeling that it almost knocked her off her feet when he locked eyes with her. She couldn't move or look away, the pounding of her heart filled her senses. She wasn't sure what to do next. Should she smile and wave? Or pretend that she hadn't seen him?
She didn't need to pick an answer because at that moment Blaise and Pansy came into the pub like small balls of energy and distracted Draco.
Hermione took the opportunity to slip away, scolding herself for her strange reaction. She found a booth in the corner and got dinner and a glass of wine. She spent a few hours reading a new book, occasionally watching Draco and his friends. Sometimes she felt Draco's eyes on her, but she was careful not to meet them again.
Hermione finished her glass of wine after a few hours, she had no interest in staying to get drunk. Draco and his friends had left a few minutes before and Hermione found herself wondering where Draco had gone to. She pondered it as she picked up her shopping and left the pub.
She began the walk home, enjoying the warm air encircling her. It was late now but the early summer nights were perfect to her. It was quiet in the village, making the walk even better.
At the edge of the village, Hermione spotted a form up the lane from her. Her heartbeat quickened and she reached in her pocket to grip her wand. She released it wheN she realized it was just Draco, he wasn't a threat to her.
She didn't want to draw his attention but he was between her and the way home, so she sighed and walked forward. "Malfoy?" She had meant to sound annoyed but it didn't come out that way.
He turned to look at her, tilting his head to the side as if studying her. "Granger" he greeted her.
"Do you need any help?" She asked, finally nailing down the tone she had intended to use. "I mean getting home, since I assume you're drunk."
She put one hand on her hip and waited for him to respond.
She was surprised when he laughed, she was expecting his usually pompous tone, not a surprisingly warm laugh. "I don't need help, no. However, I believe we live near each other so if you'd like, we could walk together?" He asked sounding slightly formal.
"Oh? Well I don't see how we can avoid walking together then." Hermione had lost her annoyed tone, and she thought to herself, 'Why is he having this affect on me? Oh gods, am I flirting?' She shook her head and began to lead the way.
They walked in silence for a few minutes before Draco asked, "So why did you move out here, Granger?"
Hermione considered the question for a moment, "I guess it all boils down to the privacy. I just wanted a space to myself where I could get away from everything else. What about you? Why do you live here?"
Draco took longer to answer, finally settling on agreeing with her. "Same reason, I suppose. The privacy."
Hermione studied him. His answer felt empty, like he hadn't actually given her an answer at all. They walked on in silence.
Draco's should we brushed Hermione's, the contact spreading fire through her body. It was electric and caught her off guard. She felt dizzy, just the small touch lighting her insides. She was aware of Draco studying her. She wanted more. But that was crazy because this was Draco Malfoy she was thinking about.
She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't realize they had reached Draco's cottage, he had to reach out and lightly touch her arm so she would know he'd stopped walking.
That touch had the same effect as the first and Hermione gasped softly at the feeling. Draco noticed, a crease marking his forehead. "Are you okay?" He asked.
Hermione considered the whole scenario. His concerned face, the fire he lit inside of her, their proximity at the moment. She couldn't handle it; it was too much for her to handle. She spun around and walked away quickly.
Draco was left wondering what had just happened. He'd felt the fire when their shoulders brushed, it what compelled him to touch her arm the second time. He easily could have said something to get her attention, but he's needed to see if he had imagined it. When she gasped, he'd worried that he had scared her, maybe she didn't like being touched. And the way she walked away so quickly.
He scratched his head as he turned to go inside. He had no idea if he had done something wrong. Their past interactions worked against him, she had every reason to recoil when he touched her. And he'd have understood and left it alone. But he had a suspicion that she hadn't recoiled out of fear or disgust.
Draco headed to bed, where he tossed and turned all night. He couldn't stop replaying the walk over and over again. And up the lane, Hermione Granger was doing the exact same thing.