Hello all!This was written for an LJ challenge at dramionedrabble. Based on the prompt: "You can't keep coming in and out of people's lives, messing things up. It's not right." –Family Man.

Title: Fresh

Rating: PG

Word Count: 1,498

Summary: It's game of push/pull between Hermione and Draco, and she doesn't know if she can handle it anymore.

...

4:50. As in, almost five. As in, I had about ten minutes to finish the last of my Christmas shopping before my dinner plans with Ron, who, despite popular belief is not my boyfriend. That would be a hellish relationship of all sorts of odd obstacles that I wouldn't even want to begin thinking about.

After rushing through crowded streets of Diagon Alley and finally buying the last item on my list – a book for a coworker – I apparated to the Three Broomsticks and found Ron sitting at a table near the bar. I immediately felt lost.

I had lost connection with most of the Wizarding World after the war's end. It started as a desire to be away from it all and him for a while; that vacation grew longer, and longer, until two years later when I visited the Burrow for the holidays. I felt so lonely and remote, like I couldn't connect with anybody. I didn't know why I had hoped that they'd all be warm and friendly towards me, why I had hoped they still considered me as close as family… but it was all different. There were new family members, new spouses and dates, all of whom stole the spotlight. And the bitter feelings that formulated there just grew… and grew. And now here I am another two years later, a complete outsider.

I only kept in touch with Ron, though I still hadn't seen him in over a year. Even when I did talk to him – through letters – it was brief and general.

Ron placed his mug down and just looked at me. Really looked at me, as if he was trying to read me. "Did it help?"

I had no clue what he was talking about. "Excuse me?"

He gently grasped my hand across the table. "Hermione. You've been away for four years. Did you get over him?"

I retracted my hand. "Of course I did." Ironically, Ron was the only one who knew about my crush and fling with Draco Malfoy. Ron was the only one I trusted enough to tell, despite his raging and amusing jealousy.

"Are you telling me the truth?"

I didn't say anything, because I wasn't sure myself.

"I want you to be okay. Even though you've been gone, I still care about you. I don't want you to be hurt."

"I am over him, Ron. It's just hard when he keeps popping back into my life randomly."

Ron didn't say anything. I seemed to have his full attention, so I felt obligated to continue talking.

"I thought being away would really help, and it does. A little. After several months, I'll think I've forgotten about him, but then I'll see him walk by, or see him buying something at a store I was about to go into, and those feelings come back."

"Have you talked to him, any of those times?"

"Sometimes, yes. But it's so tense, I can tell he has lingering feelings too." I fiddled with my mug. "And he gives me that earnest look every time, and I cut him off with a polite good-bye every time just before he can start talking."

"But Hermione –"

"I can't listen to it, Ron. There are just too many questions, and I've already closed my heart to all of them." I think.

"Okay, no need for dramatics," he said playfully. Thankfully, Ron sensed my discomfort and changed the topic. "The Weasley holiday party is next Saturday. Think you'll make it?"

I grinned at his excitement. "Count me in."

…….

I sat there drinking my hot cider. This felt just like the last time – lonely and foreign. Nobody had talked to me all night, save one of Mr. Weasley's coworkers whose fascination for all things Muggle could rival that of Mr. Weasley himself.

And worse, watching couples dance and stand in corners with their arms around each other and cuddle on the couches threatened to unlock all the feelings I'd tried hard to suppress.

I waved to Ron, who looked so happy attempting to dance with his date. Harry, so typical of him, still sat near the drinks while his date danced with the twins. And I came alone, so typical of me. I never have a date to these things. And people have stopped insisting that I bring one.

I felt ridiculous having actually dressed up and spent time to look good, hoping this time it would be different, even though I knew all along it'd be the same routine all over again. I was so bored, and my throat so dry that I considered leaving. I kept thinking about whether I should just sneak away, or if not, who should I say good-bye to? Just Ron, or everybody? But who actually knows I'm even here?

I thought about it as I walked toward the coat closet, and froze when I got near it.

It couldn't be him. No.

No.

But his back, and the hair… It looked just like his, and he hadn't turned around yet, and oh Merlin I kept hoping that wasn't Draco Malfoy who just put his coat in the closet.

I took a step backwards, hoping that I could make an escape, just in case, but he clicked the door shut and then turned around, and it was him.

We both stood still. I had no idea what to say. My heart beat rapidly, and tried to plaster a look of polite surprise on my face, but I knew it wasn't quite working. And he knew it too. He opened and closed his mouth several times.

"Hi," he eventually said.

"Hi."

Like I said earlier, this entire moment seemed to pick at the lock, and I couldn't let that happen. Should I be nice to him, or mean? I didn't know.

"You look beautiful. I haven't seen you in so long."

I blushed. "Thank you." Talk about awkward.

He looked good too; straight out of an old Muggle movie and topped with a bowler hat. The style suited him, especially with his hair parted sideways. I couldn't help but feel attracted again.

"Are you getting your coat? It is quite chilly in here, but over there –" he pointed to the main room, " – it's toasty." Talk about mundane.

I nodded, my initial desire to leave now gone. I still didn't know how to act. I wanted to be mad at him, but I knew it was my fault too, for leaving. And it was his fault for constantly playing with my heart throughout all of it.

"Why are you here?" The words flowed right out.

"Why not? I was invited."

"By who?'

"You've been gone for so long that you don't even know who's who anymore."

"Draco… I can't do this."

"What happened between us?" He stood in front of me, and I looked up at him, trying not to open that gate. "Don't you miss it?" he whispered.

And there it was. "I've gotten over it, Draco. As should you."

"I don't believe you. Ron doesn't either. Look at you; you're fiddling with your necklace. iYou/i don't even believe yourself."

He touched my cheek gently, and I turned away. "Draco, stop. I just need time. Every time I think I've succeeded, you're there again." I closed my eyes. "You can't keep coming in and out of people's lives, messing things up. It's not right."

"Hermione," he whispered, "I'm not trying to mess things up. The last thing I want is to hurt you."

"Then stop. Leave. Let me be for as long as possible."

"I can't. I miss you. I want us to be like we were. I know you feel the same. You're not very good at hiding it."

I looked away. "Honestly, I don't know what to do. I want it too, but I can't be hurt again. You know that –"

"Then let's start over!" he whispered with fervor, tentatively snaking his arms around my waist. "I've grown a lot since we were last together. We can leave the past alone; let it stay where it was, and try this again."

I breathed in his cologne, looking over his shoulder at the dancing couples again. I wanted that so badly, but to grant Draco access to my heart again? Could I really afford to try this once more? I tried to push him back.

"I promise I'll be good," he whispered, his breath tickling my ear.

I gave a small nod. "Okay," I said very hesitantly, hoping not to regret this whimsy decision. He hugged me tighter. "Okay, but we start fresh. And please, please don't break my heart again, Draco," I whispered the last sentence so lightly I couldn't even hear myself. "I can't handle moving away again."

"I won't. I promise. You deserve the best, and I'm ready to give that to you. You won't regret this." He pulled back and softly kissed my cheek. "Happy Christmas, Hermione."

And I finally smiled.

Notes: Written for a challenge and under a time crunch... it's not the best, but I know it can be reworked with a fresh mind someday.