Fall For You

by shadesofgrey1321

It has been a year, a long and miserable year. But despite a broken relationship, harsh words and a lifetime’s worth of pain, it’ll be the night of falling in love all over again.

Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter or anything affiliated with it.

Summary- It has been a year, a long and miserable year. But despite a broken relationship, harsh words and a lifetime's worth of pain, it'll be the night of falling in love all over again.

Author's Note- Inspired by the song Fall For You by Secondhand Serenade. If you haven't heard it/fallen in love with it already, it really is a beautiful piece of music. I hope you like it! Rated M for one smut scene and some language.

---

There was no doubt about it. Draco Malfoy was drunk out of his mind. Besides the spinning room and the fact that even the bartender looked passably attractive, what gave away his drunken state was the sheer emptiness he felt despite having nothing but alcohol before the sun had even set. Looking to the window, Draco saw the moon already high in the air and the skies pitch black.

He couldn't even remember if he was at a wizarding bar or a muggle establishment, but looking down at his glass, he assumed muggle. Draco had no idea whatsoever what was in his glass, but it didn't smell much like Firewhiskey to him.

He twined his fingers around the glass, the sticky residue from the drips of alcohol rubbing off on his hand. To Draco, the amber liquid smelled a little like scotch, but then again, it could have been the fabulous muggle invention known as tequila, which Draco shamefully admitted, he had gotten to know on a regular basis since approximately a year ago.

Draco brought the glass to his lips and tipped the remnants of alcohol into his mouth. He relished the fiery path that it burned down his throat and the excess amount he drank almost made him gag. All the better, he thought.

He let the glass drop to the equally sticky countertop with a loud crash and disregarded the look of disdain the bartender shot him. "Oi," Draco said instead, waving the man over. "Another one."

The bartender picked up his glass and observed it closely. "What was it?" he asked.

Draco frowned and narrowed his eyes at the man. Couldn't he just serve the alcohol without question? "How the hell should I know? You're the one serving the alcohol."

The bartender narrowed his eyes right back at Draco. "You watch your mouth, boy."

Draco would have responded had he not felt a hand sliding up his leg. Even with his mind spinning circles, he knew that wasn't right. "Can I help you?" he asked, looking over at the girl sitting next to him.

Draco was surprised to find that the girl whose hand was currently grazing his upper thigh, was in fact, attractive. He couldn't remember the last time he had thought that about anybody in that way.

"What's your name?" she asked. No beating around the bush, no small talk. Blunt and to the point. Draco liked that. He always had.

"Draco," he said, grasping eagerly at the glass the bartender placed in front of him.

The girl giggled slightly. "Got a last name to go with that, Draco?" Draco, however, didn't like the way her name sounded from her mouth.

"Malfoy."

"Draco Malfoy," she said, the mirth evident in her voice. "Your parents didn't give you a chance did they?"

Draco frowned. He knew that his name was a bit more traditional than others, and he didn't like being reminded about the fact. "You're talking to me, aren't you?"

She laughed loudly and Draco winced. He despised women who tried to attract attention that way. "I suppose I am. So, Draco Malfoy. Do you live around here?"

Not subtle at all.

"You're forward," Draco said, taking another sip of his drink.

The girl shrugged. "You look like a once in a lifetime opportunity."

Draco almost laughed at the sheer absurdity of her words. "Do I, now?"

"You have no idea," she said, her voice dropping low and predatory. "Really, Draco. Your place or mine."

Draco stood up and fished his muggle money out of his back pocket, leaving more than triple the tab on the countertop. "Neither," he said, wrenching out of her grasp and turning for the door.

For years to come, Draco would ponder how he managed to apparate back to the Manor in one piece without splinching himself horribly. He hated coming home to the Manor nowadays; there was nobody waiting for him, nothing to come home to, nothing to look forward to, there was just nothing anymore.

He supposed that it was high time that he got used to his solitary situation, but as Draco collapsed on the couch in the parlor and looked into the black, ashen fireplace, he couldn't do anything but hang his head and cry.

Draco was trying desperately to convince himself that he wasn't a fool in love, that he wasn't an insane stalker, but as he narrowed his eyes at the unnamed man so gracefully invading Hermione Granger's personal space by the water cooler, trying to convince himself of that was becoming increasingly more difficult.

She was laughing now, moving closer to him and Draco felt the corners of his mouth turn down as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. If this man was in his department, he could most definitely expect an impromptu pink slip by the end of the day.

"Granger," Draco said, stalking over to the water cooler once the man had left.

Hermione's eyes narrowed the minute she noticed his presence. "Oh, it's you," she said, rolling her eyes. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

He couldn't help but feel a little hurt that her first reaction upon seeing him was immediate dislike and probably hatred. "I can't stop by and say hi?" Draco asked amicably, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.

"No," Hermione said immediately. Draco frowned.

"What do you mean by no?" he asked, slightly annoyed. What was 'no' supposed to mean?

"I mean that no, you, Malfoy, must be here talking to me for a reason."

Draco didn't try to deny it, that hurt immensely. But he had to admit that she was right. He wanted to ask her what that man was doing talking to her. He wanted to ask her if she wanted to have dinner with him that night. He wanted to know why she still hated him so much.

"Who was that you were talking to?" he asked instead.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Why do you have to ask so many questions?" Draco regretted what he said the moment the words left his mouth. He always had a habit of being a little too impolite when it came to Hermione.

Hermione paused before answering. "He's a friend."

"Named?"

"Colin."

"And what did Colin want with you, Granger? To discuss the new developments in muggle artifacts? Chat about the Chudley Cannons?"

Hermione gave him a pointed glare. She really excelled at those, though Draco would be the last person to tell her. "If you must know, he asked me if I wanted to have dinner with him after work."

Draco tried, he really did, but he couldn't ignore the sinking, fast falling feeling that those simple words made him feel. "Well, well," Draco bit out. "Looks like you're finally getting a bit of action, Granger. About time, isn't it?"

He wished he hadn't said a word. The shattered look on Hermione's face was enough to make his own resolve crumple, make his jealousy temporarily flee. Hermione simply looked down and turned away from him, walking quickly towards the elevators.

Draco was debating catching up to her and apologizing profusely or brushing off the whole incident and going back to his office. He decided on the latter, sauntering slowly back to Level One.

On a normal day, Draco loved his job, if he could call it that. Most of his day entailed signing several parchments, giving his two cents in on the Minister decisions and a lot of sitting around. Often times, that included napping and visiting other departments too.

Today, however, Draco wished that he had something real to do, anything, even if it was the most menial of tasks.

"Stupid bitch," he muttered, cradling his head in his hands.

Draco assumed he must have been sitting and cursing Hermione's guts to oblivion for a while or simply have zoned out because when his door opened with a large crash, Draco jumped.

He barely registered a brown fireball of fury dashing into his office before it whacked him, hard, in the head.

"Bloody hell!" Draco said, standing up and backing away from Hermione brandishing the Daily Prophet. "What is your problem?"

"My problem?" she asked, her voice shaking. "I'm not the one with a problem. I'm not the one looking to insult you at every chance I get!" By the end, Hermione was so angry that she took the paper and threw it as hard as she could in the direction of Draco's over inflated head. Though he managed to catch it and let it fall to the ground before it left numerous paper cuts on his face, it did relieve some of Hermione's anger.

"Do you," Draco said, placing both his hands on his desk and leaning forward, "Do you know how much shit I can get you into for what you just did?"

He was momentarily pleased when he saw Hermione falter slightly, looking ashamed for the spectacle she just created.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, turning for the door. "I shouldn't have, it was wrong of me."

"Wait, Granger," Draco said, walking around his desk and leaning on the other side of it. He had a habit of leaning when he was around her. "Relax, I won't turn you in."

Hermione didn't say a word but Draco saw her visibly relax. "What do you want from me, Malfoy?" she said quietly.

"Go out with me." Hermione's face changed from dejected to shocked to surprised to frightened in a mere ten seconds. Draco didn't even know where that had come from.

Hermione began laughing. It was a slight chuckle at first and it began escalating to a full blown laugh.

"I don't see how this is funny, Granger."

Hermione stopped laughing immediately. "Malfoy, you can't be serious. You and me? You must be out of your mind."

"So what if I am? Go out with me."

Hermione paused as if she were really considering his proposal. "Why on earth would you want to go out with me?"

Draco frowned. How could he explain to her that seeing her with other men made him feel sick? That he couldn't stop thinking about her, night and day? That her presence made him feel so much lighter, so much happier, even if they were fighting?

"I don't know," he said eventually. Hermione threw up her hands and forcefully pulled the door open. "Okay, okay, Granger! Just wait for a moment."

Hermione slammed the door and walked to Draco so that she was inches from him. "Give me three reasons why I should even consider going out with your sorry arse."

"We have chemistry," Draco said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Chemistry? Are you daft?"

Draco laughed lightly. "Don't try and deny you don't want me," Draco said. "You want me, I'm willing to go out with you. Chemistry."

Hermione shook her head but Draco noted that she didn't try to deny that she wanted him.

"I'm attractive as hell."

Hermione laughed, throwing her head back, letting her hair bounce on her shoulders. "Whatever gets you to sleep at night." Draco smiled; she didn't deny that he was attractive either. "One more, Malfoy. That was only two."

Draco didn't even expect himself to have this much gall, but he closed the distance between them and took her face in his hands. Her lips were as soft, no softer, than he imagined them to be and as he deepened the kiss, letting his tongue wrestle with hers, he realized that her hands were wound around his neck tightly, running through his hair.

She pulled away first, breathing heavily and looking down at the ground.

"Consider that three," Draco muttered. He looked at Hermione expectantly, waiting for her answer.

"Okay," Hermione said slowly, catching his gaze with hers. "One date."

Draco didn't even try to hide the smile growing across his face.

---

"And then I ate it," Colin said, slapping his hand on the table at the sheer humor of the story he just told.

Hermione tried to smile. "That's terribly fascinating, Colin," she said, trying to mean it. In actuality, Hermione wanted to scream out how she felt the exact opposite way.

Colin frowned, taking a large bite of his meal. "It wasn't, was it?" he asked.

Hermione frowned right back at him, placing her fork at the side of her plate. "What wasn't?"

"What I just told you. It wasn't fascinating at all. You weren't even listening."

Hermione wiped the corners of her mouth and sighed. "I'm sorry," she said eventually. "I suppose I'm just not very good company."

She looked over at Colin who slowly snaked his hands across the table and took her hands in his. Hermione wanted to gag at the sweaty, clammy feel of Colin's hands rubbing off onto her and she couldn't help but think that his hands never felt this way. His hands were always cool, easy to hold. They always felt right in hers.

"Listen, Hermione," he said, squeezing her hands. She flinched. "I like you. I've liked you for a long time, and I think you know that. I know that you're still hung up over that Malfoy-"

"Don't," Hermione said forcefully, wrenching her hands out of his. "Just don't say his name."

Colin sighed. "Why don't we just talk about something else?"

Hermione smiled and picked up her fork, spearing a piece of fish. "Let's," she agreed.

They talked about his job, they talked about hers, they talked about the latest Quidditch matches, which as much as Hermione tried to be interested in, couldn't and they talked about their favorite books.

She tried to absorb herself in the conversation, tried to laugh at the jokes that he made but Hermione knew that this would be the first and last date Colin would be getting out of her.

"So," Colin said after the bill had been paid. "Would you like to get a cup of coffee? Walk around Muggle London?"

"No!" Hermione said loudly, making Colin start. Her eyes widened and she breathed in deeply. "I mean that it's late and I should probably go home and get some rest."

Colin shrugged and nodded. "Okay," he agreed, offering Hermione his arm. They apparated back to her flat and as Hermione fiddled through her bag for her keys, she realized that it was beginning to rain. This was just a little too familiar for her taste.

"I enjoyed myself tonight," Colin said, moving closer to her on the front step. The sirens in Hermione's head began to sound but she nevertheless remained in place.

"Yes," she agreed. "Dinner was delicious."

He was moving closer now, inclining his head towards hers but Hermione figured that after pursuing her tirelessly for almost two years and being lousy company on their date, a kiss was the least she could do.

She discovered quickly that Colin was a sloppy kisser. His tongue grazed her mouth with a trepidation that she couldn't enjoy and he kissed her like he wanted her to take initiative, to decide where their kiss would go. Hermione prayed that it would be over soon.

"That was nice," Colin said when he pulled away, smiling like a nutter. Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"Goodnight, Colin," she said opening the door to her building.

By the time she had climbed the three flights of stairs to her flat, Hermione was in tears, sobbing so hard that she could barely find the right set of keys to open her door.

She slammed her door as hard as she could, sorry that the one she intended it for couldn't hear the sound.

Hermione hated that she still felt the same way about him, one year later. She hated that every guy that she dated since him never quite measured up and she hated the fact that she felt absolutely nothing for someone who seemed to care and fancy her quite a bit.

She was pretty sure that she hated him.

Hermione grasped the first object that she laid her hands on, a vase that she always kept on the table by the door and hurled it as hard as she could across the room. "Fuck you, Draco Malfoy!" she screamed as the vase shattered against the wall, falling into tiny pieces on the ground.

She was sobbing again, loud wracking sobs that she was sure the whole of London could hear. Hermione shook her head and sank to the ground, the rich and delicate fabric of her clothing pooled around her. She remembered the flowers that vase once held and was suddenly very sorry she had broken it. "Fuck you, Malfoy."

Hermione's entire wardrobe was strewn around her bedroom, clothing hanging haphazardly from lampshades, curtain rails, covering her bed. She groaned as she looked through her clothes once more, convinced that she had nothing to wear on her date.

She didn't even know why she cared so much. It was Malfoy, for crying out loud. Just Malfoy.

But it did matter. Despite her conscience internally battling in her head, telling her that it didn't matter, it did.

She decided on a simple black dress eventually, one that scooped around the neck and ended just before her knees. Hermione paired it with a pair of black heels, performed a couple of taming charms on her hair and hoped that it would be enough.

She jumped when she heard a knock on the door and looking at her clock, Hermione smirked. Eight o' clock sharp, not a moment before or after. She had always known Draco Malfoy to be late, whether it was for Potions classes or work. He must have really been making an effort.

When she opened her door, she found Draco, one hand stuffed deep into his pocket and the other clutching a bouquet of flowers, looking very, very nervous.

"Hi," he said quietly. Draco seemed to relax when he took in the sight of her, probably just as nervous as he was, although they wouldn't admit it to each other. "You look passably attractive."

Immediately, Hermione felt all the blood rush to her cheeks. A semi compliment from Draco Malfoy. She must be delusional,

'Thank you," she said, holding her door open for him. She looked his attire up and down, black, black and black. "You look like you're ready to go to a funeral."

Draco smirked and stepped inside the flat. "I could say the same thing about you," he said, handing her the flowers, which were, to her delight, a bouquet of white roses. "I hope you like them."

Hermione looked from the bouquet to Draco and decided she liked this version of him very much. "I do," she said, placing them in the vase she always kept by the door. "They're my favorite. How did you know?"

Draco turned pink and Hermione found herself very amused. "Took a wild guess," he said.

Hermione snorted. "Right," she said turning for the kitchen and filling up the vase with water. "Seriously, Malfoy, how did you know?" She stood with her hands on her hips in front of him but hoped that he didn't miss the playfulness in her eyes.

Draco swore and ran his hand through his hair. "I heard you and Weasley talking once."

Hermione laughed and grabbed her coat off her coat rack. "When?" she questioned.

"Do you always ask so many questions?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes," she answered shortly. "Now, when were Ginny and I talking about flowers?"

Draco paused. "You were helping her plan her wedding to Potter and you mentioned how white roses were your favorite."

Hermione was shocked. Harry and Ginny's wedding was close to a year ago. Even she didn't remember the conversation. But he did.

"So," Hermione said instead as she locked her door. "Where are you taking me?"

Draco only smirked. "Do you like French?" Hermione simply nodded and took his arm, ready for the familiar feeling of apparation.

When she opened her eyes again, Hermione was greeted with the widest expanse of blue and the setting sun creating glimmering silhouettes against the water's surface. "Malfoy, where are we?"

Draco smiled and looked to his left and right. "Well this," he said gesturing to the blue expanse and land around "is the Côte d'Azur. We're somewhere near Nice, I think."

Hermione did a double take. "The French Riviera?" she questioned.

"Glad to know your geography skills are up to par." Draco led Hermione to a restaurant directly behind them. It was a small establishment, very homey and not at all the kind of place Hermione would imagine Draco I'm-too-rich-for-my-own-good Malfoy frequenting.

"Ah, Monsieur Malfoy! It is a pleasure to see you again." Draco smiled and grasped the hand of the maître d', shaking it firmly in his own. "I see you will be needing a table for two this evening."

Hermione saw Draco's cheeks go slightly red and she held back her laughter. "If it's not too much trouble," Draco responded stiffly.

They were led to a table right on the deck overlooking the clear water. "Any wine for you, Monsieur?" the maître d' asked, handing Draco a leather bound book.

"Your best bottle," he said, not even bothering to looking through the menu. Hermione couldn't contain the small sound that left her mouth as the maître d' walked away.

"What?" Draco asked, sitting back in his chair and looking at Hermione.

Hermione leaned forward on her elbows and shook her head. "You don't need to do that, Malfoy," she said.

"Do what?"

"Order the best bottle of wine, take me all the way to the French Riviera for dinner."

Hermione expected Draco to get defensive and offended, because in all honesty, she would have. Draco however, smirked.

"Relax, Granger. I brought you here because I love this restaurant and I ordered the wine for my own benefit, not yours. Feel free to order whatever you'd like."

Nevertheless when the wine was brought to their table and the glasses full, Hermione took a small sip. Draco laughed lightly when she did. "Well?" he asked.

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment. "Slightly dry, lasting aftertaste. The bouquet is a little robust, but," Hermione paused and broke off a piece of bread from the basket and popped it into her mouth. "As I suspected. It goes well with bread."

Draco merely raised an eyebrow, but in actuality, he was sufficiently impressed. He swirled his own glass and brought it to his nose before taking a small sip.

"Well?" Hermione asked.

Draco smirked. "Excellent analysis. Couldn't agree more."

The waiter who brought their wine promptly returned and Hermione realized she hadn't even looked at the menu. She opened up the leather bound file and picked up the first entrée she laid her eyes on, the salmon. Draco hadn't even cracked his menu but decided on the lobster.

When they were left in solitude, Hermione looked out at the wide expanse of blue, trying to think of something to say to him. She couldn't understand this, for almost her whole life, she had done nothing but banter, no, fought with Draco and now when she finally needed to have something to say to him, she was at a loss for words.

Hermione took a long swig of wine, emptying her glass.

Draco snorted. "Careful, Granger. Don't want to be drunk on a first date. It's not very becoming, now, is it?" But Draco reached over to the wine cooler and poured Hermione another healthy glass.

Hermione sighed. "Isn't this strange? I mean, you and me. On a date. In France."

Draco laughed. "Why should it be? It's me, the insufferable prat you've known since school."

"And that isn't strange for you?"

"Not in the least."

Hermione frowned. "You're weird, Malfoy."

"Why thank you, Granger. You're not so normal yourself. Now tell me," Draco said, leaning forward. "Where did you learn the art of wine tasting?"

Hermione smirked. "Surprised that someone like me can tell the difference between a chardonnay and a merlot?"

Draco's features hardened slightly. "It was just a question, Granger."

Hermione mentally kicked herself. She hadn't meant for it to sound that way. "My parents. They used to go wine tasting around Italy and France. I picked up the art rather quickly."

Draco shook his head and swirled the liquid around again. "Who knew you and I would have something in common?"

"Meaning?"

"That was what I did with my parents during the summer vacations. Before…" Draco's voice trailed off but Hermione didn't need him to finish the sentence. Before it became impossible to indulge in endeavors like those, before his parents died by the hand of the master they served, before he was left alone in the world.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said quietly, holding his grey eyes with her gaze. "It was terrible, what happened to your parents." She didn't deny they deserved it, but it was terrible all the same.

Draco shook his head and looked to the water. "My father got what he deserved. I wished that it hadn't happen to my mother, but she was loyal to my father. That's all it came down to in the end."

Hermione looked at him, stunned. She wondered how much more there was to the man she had brushed aside as a childish, spineless bully.

Draco suddenly laughed, loud and harshly. "You do know how to generate depressing conversation, Granger. Now I'll give you a chance to ask me a question since you so graciously answered mine."

"Okay," Hermione said slowly, trying to come up with a question quickly. "What's your favorite book?"

Draco smirked. "You're fairly predictable."

"Answer the question, Malfoy."

He thought for a moment. "Crime and Punishment."

Hermione laughed and shook her head. "I wouldn't have guessed it."

"Why would you say that?"

"Muggle book by a muggle author about moral consequences for an impromptu murder? Doesn't seem much like you."

Draco frowned. "Listen, Granger. I know you have this image of me but for both your and my benefit, just get over yourself. I'm not the person you think I am."

Their meals arrived in that moment, and Hermione noted that even though the restaurant didn't seem like the most fancy in the world, their food certainly did; both their meals looked delicious and smelt even more so.

"It's your turn," Hermione said quietly when she no longer could stand the silence.

Draco looked thoughtful. "What are you the most scared of?"

Hermione stopped all together. Perceptive of him to ask the one question she was afraid to answer.

Hermione speared another piece of fish and looked down at her plate. "Being alone."

She expected him to laugh, to make some kind of inappropriate, snide comment, but when she looked over to Draco, she saw him nodding understandingly.

"Looks like we have two things in common, Granger" Draco said.

Hermione smiled. During dinner, she learned that Draco's favorite color was black, it was his middle name and hence his outfit, his first racing broom had been a Comet 260, his birthday was June 5, he hated when people called him anything besides 'Draco' or 'Malfoy' and that she asked, apparently, the world's most boring questions.

Draco, in turn, learned that Hermione's parents were dentists and had moved to a small town in the United States after the Second Wizarding War, on some weekends she played tennis with muggle friends, she and Weasley's relationship fell apart shortly after the War because they were simply different people and that she had in fact, charmed her hair into submission that night.

When Draco had paid the bill and Hermione thanked him profusely for dinner, they left the restaurant. The awkwardness that Hermione felt at dinner promptly returned as they stood looking at each other, unsure of what to do next.

"Do you," Draco asked quietly but quickly. "God. Do you want to walk a little?"

His voice was shaking Hermione realized. Draco Malfoy was nervous. She was sure that he would always remember the way he looked to her right now, hands deep in his pockets, head hung low and eyes just barely looking at her.

"That would be lovely," Hermione said easily, walking ahead of Draco, leaving him to follow her.

In two strides, Draco caught up with her, looking at her instead of the path in front of him as they walked.

"I have a question," Hermione said, looking to the water.

Draco smirked. "It's not your turn.'

"You're going to stop me?"

He laughed. "Ask away."

"Why are you so nervous around me?"

It was his million-dollar question, the one that he would love not to answer. But Draco knew he had no way out of it. "You still think I'm a pureblood, elitist prat. And don't try to deny it, because I know you do. I just want you to see me differently."

"Why?" Hermione knew that she must be sounding completely insane, but her overwhelming curiosity was temporarily getting the better of her.

"I've asked out to have dinner with me, kissed you, and brought you to the French Riviera. Is it not obvious?"

Of course it was, Hermione thought. But she looked at Draco, trying to look as innocent and naive as possible. Draco groaned. "I like you, all right Granger?"

"You like me?" Hermione repeated,

"We've just established that fact."

Hermione began to laugh, laugh at the sheer humor at what he had just said. Draco Malfoy, hater of all things muggle, Mister purebood elite, fancied her.

"I don't find it the least bit funny," Draco said.

"Oh, but it is. I ought to tell this to Ron and Har-" Hermione's voice cut off as she tripped on a rock she hadn't seen in her path. Draco was at her side instantly, catching her hand with Seeker-quick reflexes.

He laughed quietly. "That'll teach you to make fun of me."

Hermione tried to come up with something to answer him with, but her concentration was on their hands clasped tightly together. His hand was cool in hers and surprisingly soft but what shocked Hermione the most was that his hand in hers felt right. As she regained her balance, Draco still kept his grip firm on her hand and Hermione found that she didn't want him to let go.

"Thanks," she said quietly. Draco nodded.

"This is absolutely breathtaking," Hermione said, looking at their surroundings. "How did you discover it?"

"Discover the French Riviera? Hate to break it to you, Granger, but its been discovered for some time now."

"Malfoy, come on. You know what I mean."

"My parents. They brought me here and I fell in love. It's the one place I can escape to."

Hermione looked to him but saw Draco looking in every direction but hers. She supposed he simply wasn't used to being so open, so vulnerable.

"The French Riviera was your escape?" Hermione couldn't hide the mirth in her voice.

"You don't have a place you escape to? Besides the library, I mean." Hermione used the hand that wasn't holding his to slap his shoulder. The familiarity of the action wasn't lost on either of them.

"Yes, Malfoy. I have an escape."

"Where?"

Hermione smiled, tilting her head to the side. "I'll show you."

Without warning, Hermione apparated them to one of the places she loved the most in the world.

"Bloody hell, Granger. Warn me before you do that." Draco looked at the lights above, the water below and looked at Hermione quizzically. "London Bridge. This is your escape?"

Hermione nodded at him and Draco found himself smiling at her wide smile. "Why?"

"Because," she said slowly, looking to her left and right. The wide smile was still plastered across her face. "It's beautiful. The lights, the water, the people. It's just beautiful."

Draco could find many things to counter her statement with, but he didn't have the heart to say them to her. She looked genuinely happy and he found that rubbing off on himself too.

Draco was shaken out of his trance of watching her when he felt a raindrop on his face. "Oh look at that," he said sarcastically, wiping it away with his thumb. "It's raining. Well, we'd better go, Granger."

Hermione looked at him, her eyes narrowing playfully. "Catch me first."

Draco had half a mind to leave her clicking her heels away on the bridge but as she threw a smile over her shoulder at him inviting him to join her, he shook his head and took of after her. Trust her to be the one to make him run around a bridge chasing a girl like a common pedestrian.

She was fast, he realized quickly. Even in all her high heeled, dressed up glory, she could run fast and he was having a difficult time maneuvering around the crowds of people and catching up to her.

He stopped short when he saw Hermione dart across the street, narrowly missing two cars headed in her direction. He almost called off the whole game then and there but her smile across the street challenging him to follow her made him continue.

She didn't play by the rules and neither did he. As Hermione realized with horror what he'd been doing smiling like a nutter at her and closing his eyes, she tried to dart off in the other direction.

He was too quick for her and as she tried to escape from him as she heard the familiar pop of apparation, he caught her arm and pulled her so that they were as close as physically possible. "Caught you," he whispered into her ear. Hermione was sure she had never heard anything sexier.

The rain started with a vengeance; what had been a couple light drops before turned quickly into a full blown rain shower that soaked both of them within minutes.

"What do you plan to do with me?" she asked, hoping that the answer she had guessed would be the right one.

Draco simply smirked his characteristic Malfoy smirk and cradled her face in his hands, pulling her in for a kiss.

It was different from the one they had shared in his office, he seemed a bit more careful, a bit more sensitive as he explored every inch of her mouth, drinking her in as if she were his saving grace, his last breath.

They had both arrived at work the next day sneezing with sore throats, but it had been more than worth it.

---

It was the blasted light that had woke Draco up. He had forgotten to draw the curtains the night before. Although, he thought, having made it back to the Manor in one piece was impressive enough.

His head felt ready to split in two and the headache he was nursing was enough to make him swear off alcohol all together. Draco laughed out loud, cruelly and harshly. As if that would work.

He reached for the vial of hangover potion he always kept handy on his nightstand, cringing at the fact that the traits he was currently exhibiting would have been ones that she would have sent him off to AA meetings for. Or at least a long chat with Potter and the Weasel.

His headache subsided almost instantly and brought Draco crashing back to reality. He was in his room in the Manor, having somehow managed to drag his sorry arse up to bed.

To his horror, Draco realized that he had kept to his side of the bed. It had been a year and he still couldn't bring himself to sleep in the middle. Furthermore, he was wound around her pillow, cradling it to his body the way he used to hold her when they slept. Disgusted, he violently pushed it away letting it fall to the ground.

He didn't need someone to tell him that he reeked of alcohol. As he made his way to the washroom and turned on the shower, a fabulous invention that she had introduced him to, Draco couldn't help but think that a year ago, when he awoke, he would always be enveloped in her scent, apples and cinnamon.

What he would give to have that scent back in his life again scared him.

He set the temperature for the shower to the coldest setting possible, letting the stream of water beat down on his back like a thousand knives cutting him. He relished in the pain and wondered briefly when he had become such a masochist.

When had he become so pathetic? When had he become such a fool in love? When was the last time he had felt happy?

Draco put his fist to the wall as hard as he could. He hated the mornings where he over analyzed everything because when it boiled down to it, it always came out as his fault. He had lost her, he had been the one to let her go, he was the cause for his own unhappiness and constant drunken state.

When Draco believed he had sufficiently punished himself with his cold shower, he dried himself and healed his hand. He was surprised when he felt the bones in his hand shift back into place; since when had he become accustomed to the pain of a broken hand?

Draco considered skipping work all together that day. Even after his shower, he could still smell the alcohol, had he bathed in it? And his head was still pounding, but Draco decided against it. He had probably missed enough work for the Ministry to have sufficient reason to fire him.

When he had dressed in his standard outfit, Malfoy black, black and black, he stood at the foot of his bed, looking at the rumpled sheets and pillows. He sighed and picked up the pillow, her pillow, that he had thrown on the ground and placed it beside his.

He would give anything to have her back in his bed again, cuddled beside him, keeping him warm during the coldest of nights. He would give anything to have her in his arms, her caramel hair in his face, her scent completely enveloping him.

Apples and cinnamon. He had discovered on their third date that Hermione used apple shampoo and cinnamon conditioner. Draco had thought the combination slightly strange at first, but as they strolled Muggle London after dinner hand in hand, she had flipped her hair in his direction and he was intoxicated.

He woke when a steady stream of light wouldn't leave his vision. Draco groaned as he closed his eyes and buried his face into Hermione's hair, wondering why they hadn't closed the curtains the night before.

His memory returned along with a wicked smile. Of course. They had simply been too busy to close the curtains, and then too exhausted.

Draco reluctantly untangled himself from Hermione, pulled on his sleep pants strewn across the floor, and walked over to his large windows to close the curtains.

"Draco," Hermione murmured, cracking one eye open when she realized he wasn't beside her. "Where'd you go?"

Draco smiled widely. He loved the way she said his name. "Sorry," he said, sliding back into bed. He wrapped his arms securely around Hermione and pulled her to him so that her back was cradled against his chest and her head lay in the space between his shoulder and neck. "I was just closing the curtains."

"Oh. Okay." Hermione smiled and closed her eyes again. "I don't want to go to work."

Draco just smiled. He knew that she had been completely bombarded with a project a couple weeks ago and it had been slowly but surely taking its toll on her. "So don't go," he murmured against her neck.

"It's not that easy," Hermione insisted. "I'm not some advisor to the Minister who can skip work whenever I feel like it."

"Yeah, but you're sleeping with one. That's got to have perks."

Hermione dug an elbow into Draco's ribs. "I'm not using you to get out of my job. Besides, it wouldn't work."

"Sure it would. I'll just send a note in and say that you're currently preoccupied."

"Preoccupied? With what?"

"This." In an instant, Draco had Hermione pinned beneath him and he lowered his mouth to hers.

Hermione responded almost immediately, twining her arms around his neck, running her fingers through his soft hair, pulling him as close to her as possible.

His hands ran down her sides, making her shiver as his fingers ran over her abdomen.

"Wait," Hermione said, breaking away from him. Draco continued his assault on her neck, creating a necklace of butterfly kisses.

"No," he murmured.

"Draco, come on." Her hands were still in his hair, running down his back, making him feel so damn good. "What time is it?"

"Don't know."

"Liar." Hermione reached over to the nightstand and grabbed his watch, bringing it between Draco and her face. "Bugger!"

In an instant, she had shoved Draco off her and grabbed the first item of clothing she laid her hands on, his shirt, and donned it as she dashed to the bathroom. Draco couldn't even begin to describe the way he felt when he saw her in all her toned leggy glory, wearing his clothing.

"What are you doing?" he asked, walking over to the bathroom and leaning on the doorframe. Hermione was currently in the process of dragging her brush through her hair.

"I'm going to work! Oh, I can't believe you, I'm over an hour late. This'll be the last time I stay here, that's for sure. You're such a prat, I can't believe you didn't wake me up. Ginny is going to kill me for leaving her alone."

Draco tried not to laugh, but failed. "You're not going to work today."

Hermione looked at him as though he had grown a second head. "Have you lost it? Of course I'm going! And you'd better get dressed Malfoy, because advisor to the Minister or not, you're coming in with me to explain why I'm late."

"You're not going in today," Draco repeated, moving to stand behind her and pull her into his arms. "Because I already flooed in to tell them you were sick."

Hermione turned around in his arms. "What? Why did you do that?" To Draco, she sounded slightly more shocked than pleased.

'Because you've been working too hard and you're too stressed over this project. I thought you deserved a day off."

The radiant smile that he loved so much returned promptly. "So," Draco continued, weaving his hands through her hair. "You can either go into work and explain your miraculous recovery or…" Draco's voice trailed off.

"Or?"

"Or we can keep doing this." He had swept her in his arms instantly, despite all her screaming, shrieking protests and walked the short distance back to his bed and laid her gently on it, covering her body with his. "Well?" Draco asked, looking straight into her eyes. "What's it going to be?"

Hermione threaded her fingers through his hair and brought his lips down to hers. He groaned appreciatively, using his tongue to explore every contour and corner of her mouth, bringing out the taste that was so uniquely Hermione.

Hermione responded by wrapping her legs securely around Draco's waist, a possessive gesture of hers he absolutely loved. "Draco," she whispered as he broke away from her, undoing the buttons on her, no his, shirt and kissing the exposed skin. "Draco, I love you."

They both stopped immediately. Hermione, because she couldn't believe what she had said, and Draco because she had never said that to him before.

"What?" Draco said eventually, barely suppressing a laugh. Hermione shoved him off.

"You heard me. Don't make me regret saying it." As much as Hermione tried, she couldn't deny that she loved him.

"You love me," Draco said, rather stupidly.

"Yes, well, I don't understand why you have to repeat it. It's unnecessary, really."

"I don't think so, Hermione." The use of her first name wasn't lost on her. "You love me. Quite the feat, isn't?" Her response was throwing her pillow at him and getting out of bed. Draco groaned. "Hermione, come on. I was joking with you."

"Joking about me loving you? Sorry Malfoy, I don't find it funny."

"All right, all right," Draco said, getting out of bed and pulling Hermione to him. "I'm sorry." Hermione looked everywhere but at him. "Would it help if I told you I love you, too?"

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. "You love me?" Merlin, she sounded just as stupid as he had moments ago. "Why?"

Draco narrowed his eyes at her, wondering if she was serious. "Because you keep me on my toes and make sure that I go to work. Your hair smells so good that I think you've poisoned me. You don't take any of my crap. You're beautiful. What's not to love?"

She shook her head, shocked at the conversation they were having. She was in love with Draco Malfoy and he loved her right back. Hermione smiled and threw her arm around him, trying to pull him as close as humanly possible.

They had stayed in bed the whole day, moving only for lunch and dinner, and once to disconnect the floo network. The next day at work Harry had remarked that both Draco and Hermione wore identical smiles that made them look like complete nutters.

---

Hermione groaned as she opened her eyes. Saturday. She hated them with a fiery passion.

Digging her head deeper into her pillow, Hermione wondered when she had began detesting the weekends, days with nothing scheduled for her to do. She groaned again as she got out of bed, slipping her feet into her slippers.

"Well Crooks?" Hermione said, picking up Crookshanks from the ground. "What'll it be this morning?"

Hermione padded into the kitchen, looking at the food she had and frowned. A trip to the grocery store was definitely necessary. She smiled, at least it was something to do.

Hermione settled on eggs eventually and let Crookshanks down on the ground.

Normally, Hermione preferred her eggs sunny side up, so she didn't know why she decided to scramble them today, the way he liked them. Hermione tried to disregard the fact that a year ago, she had been in a very similar position on a Saturday morning, only she had been cooking for two, not just herself.

She sighed as the fireplace roared to life revealing a determined Harry and a coughing Ron. "Hey guys!" she greeted, trying to sound as optimistic as possible, waving her spatula at Ron and Harry. "I was making breakfast. Care for some eggs?"

Ron took one look into the pan and turned to Harry furiously. "I told you we have a problem."

Harry rolled his eyes. "No thanks, Hermione," he said, answering her previous question. He turned to Ron. "Calm down."

Hermione frowned. "Is something wrong?"

Ron turned red. "I'll tell you what's wrong, Hermione. It's been a year and you're still not over Malfoy!"

"Ron!" Harry exclaimed. So much for calming down. Hermione, on the other hand, flinched. She didn't like hearing his name.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione said defensively.

Ron opened his mouth to protest but was stopped by Harry who stepped on his foot, hard. "What we mean to say, Hermione, is that we know you're still hurt and that we're here to help you."

Hermione scoffed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're still wearing his shirt!" Ron exclaimed, addressing to her attire. Hermione felt the heat rise to her cheeks. "You're cooking his favorite breakfast, you walk around like an inferni. Don't try and tell me you're fine."

Hermione threw her spatula to the ground, causing Harry and Ron to both jump back from the noise. "Damn it Ron! Don't you think I know that? Do you think it's easy for me to walk around and hear his name everywhere? Hear the things he's doing? Hear the girls who want to date him? Do you think it's easy for me to send back his owls even though I don't want to? Do you think it's just that easy to fall out of love? Do you?" Hermione was screaming by the end and coupled with her large, wracking sobs, she knew she sounded very much like a banshee.

Harry was the first to come to her, pulling her into his arms and hugging her tightly. "I know, Hermione," he whispered to her, sending an accusing glare to Ron. "I know it's hard."

"I still love him, Harry. I don't want to, but I do."

"I know, Hermione," Harry said again, rocking her awkwardly back and forth. "It'll get better soon, I promise."

"When?"

Harry, Ron and Hermione were all greeted by the inevitable silence.

"Listen," Ron said, patting her on the back. "Go to Grimmauld Place with Harry and Ginny. Stay with them for a while."

Hermione pulled away from Harry and looked at them both with wide eyes. "What? I can't do that."

"Hermione, please," Harry said desperately. "Come stay with Ginny and me. We don't want you to be alone."

Hermione laughed harshly, one that mirrored his cruel chuckle. "Harry, don't worry. I'm not about to jump off the building. He's not worth that."

"Hermione, that's not what I meant," Harry insisted, but she noted the way his ears turned pink. "I just don't want you to be so lonely."

Hermione sighed. "I'll think about it, Harry. Is that okay?"

Harry smiled widely. "Of course it is. We're only trying to look out for you."

Hermione smiled and wrapped her arms around both Harry and Ron awkwardly. "I know you are. I can't thank you enough."

Ron cleared his throat. "No need for thanks, Hermione. We just want to see you happy again."

Hermione nodded. "I will be. Soon."

Harry nodded. "Come for dinner tonight. Ginny's cooking something or other. It'll be like old times."

Hermione forced herself to smile. "That sounds lovely, Harry. I'll be there."

Harry and Ron stayed for a cup of coffee each but by the time they left, Hermione was exhausted. It seemed that even the most menial of tasks exhausted her nowadays.

She didn't understand how her life had taken this turn, how she had ended up so broken, so exhausted, so in love.

Hermione didn't bother excusing herself as she maneuvered her way through the people crowding the hallways. She vaguely heard someone yelling at her to slow down, but it barely registered in her head.

When she reached Draco's office, she threw open his door and ran inside.

Draco's head snapped up at the unexpected intrusion. "Nice to see you've learned to knock," Draco said wryly, standing up and walking over to her.

Hermione rolled her eyes as he wrapped his arms around her waist and tilted her head up so that she could kiss him properly. "I just heard," she said when they broke apart, Hermione out of breath from running and his reeling kiss.

Draco leaned against his desk. "Heard what? You can't expect me to follow your wild trains of thought."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Don't be arrogant, Draco." He smirked. "I heard, well everybody's heard, the Ministry is letting you have your father's things back."

Draco immediately tensed. He had hoped that it wouldn't become public knowledge so soon. He hadn't even decided what to do with the items. "So?" he responded eventually. "What's that have to do with you?"

He tried not to feel like a complete prick when he saw the look of hurt on her face.

"Nothing," she said icily. "I just thought that you might want to talk about it."

"Well, I don't."

"Fine," Hermione said, retreating to the door. "I'll be staying at my flat tonight."

Draco sighed. He hadn't handled that as well as he could have. He knew that she must have been excited about Lucius private collection becoming available; amongst other things, there were multitudes of books on healing magic, dark magic and potions that only the Malfoy family had access to for the centuries past.

But Draco didn't want Lucius's things. He didn't want to have any association with his deceased father. It just reminded him of the life that he could have been led into, the life he could have had. It scared him much more than he was willing to admit.

He spent the rest of the day going through a myriad of emotions. He was livid at his father for putting him in this position, confused at what to do with the items, frustrated because Hermione wouldn't be staying at the Manor that night and angry at her for making him feel all of the above.

By the time he apparated to her flat and let himself in, Draco wasn't even sure what he was feeling anymore.

Hermione was sitting at her dining room table looking at the apples in her fruit bowl when Draco arrived. "What are you doing here?" she asked immediately.

Her less than pleased greeting only heightened his anger. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's not supposed to mean anything. It was a simple question."

"Why do you think I'm here?" This was getting beyond frustrating. Draco wanted to throw something.

"Will you just answer the question?"

"I'm here because you're obviously pissed at me!"

Hermione scoffed. "Do you know how backwards that sounds? If I'm pissed at you, do you think I'd want to see you?"

"Why the fuck are you pissed at me?"

His crude language didn't throw her off for an instant. "Because you're an insensitive bastard."

Draco swore and pounded his fist on the wall. "What gives you the right to call me that, you meddling bitch?"

Hermione's eyes glassed over the moment the words left his mouth. "Get out of my house."

"No," Draco said, walking closer to her. "You're going to answer my question."

Hermione got right into his face, his previous comment completely forgotten. "Do not try to lord over me, Draco. Don't even dare. I won't hesitate to hex you." She pointed her wand at him for good measure.

Draco took a step back from her, lest he do something that he'd really regret. Like slap her. Or shake her hard. "Damn it, Hermione, just answer the fucking question."

"I have the right because when I ask you a simple question and you lash out at me, you are nothing more than an insensitive bastard."

"No," Draco said, pushing over a chair so hard that it cracked against the floor, making Hermione jump. "You have no right. Unless you knew what kind of twisted bastard my father was, you have no right to ask me about that. No fucking right."

"Oh, just stop it already, Draco. You think you had it so difficult, your father pushing you into something you didn't want to do. You made your future by your decisions. We all did."

Draco saw red, real red, lining his vision and swirling around the room. "Listen to me," he said quietly, grabbing Hermione by both shoulders so hard that she knew that he'd leave twin bruises. "Don't talk about things you don't understand, don't you dare. You have no idea what you're talking about, you stupid bitch. Because unless you know what its like to have your family's fate hanging over your head, to have threats of death with everything you do, to know that you only have one chance to do something or get killed, you will never understand. So don't talk to me about my father and his things. Do you understand me?"

Hermione responded by punching him square in the nose. She almost screamed when she heard a loud crack and as blood ran down his face, she wondered with horror what she had done. She hadn't meant to hurt him that badly. It was simply the first thing she thought to do.

Draco wiped the blood away from his nose and smiled so evilly that it made Hermione want to run to her room and bolt the door. "Your punches have improved since third year but," Draco grabbed her hand and squeezed it as hard as he could, twisting her wrist around in the process. "If you dare touch me again, I will make sure that you won't be able to after that."

He let go of her suddenly and before Hermione had a chance to tell him to get the hell out of her house and never return, he was gone.

She stood in shock at what had happened but when the first tear made its way down her cheek, Hermione lost it. She barely made it to the privacy of her bedroom before she was sobbing loudly, clutching onto her sheets because she was just so sorry, because she was just so scared.

Hermione hadn't wanted to be scared of him, but when he stood before her, covered in blood, he looked so much like Malfoy the Death Eater instead of Draco, the man she had fallen in love with.

She hadn't meant to hurt him to the point his nose broke and as she cried, she wished that Draco knew that. She'd never intentionally hurt him.

Hermione considered packing a bag then and there and crashing at Harry and Ginny's for the night, but decided against it eventually. They didn't deserve to be burdened with her problems. Instead, Hermione clutched onto Draco's pillow, and breathed in his scent deeply, unsure of what to do next.

Around three am, and Hermione knew because she couldn't sleep for the life of her, she heard the familiar pop of apparition. Scared out of her mind, she buried her head into his pillow, willing whoever the intruder was to go away.

She let out a whimper when it sat on the edge of her bed but the minute he touched her, Hermione knew exactly who it was. She hadn't expected him to come back after what she had done. Nevertheless, Hermione wrenched away.

"Go away, Draco."

He sighed. "Hermione, please."

Hermione was sure she had never heard his voice sound so broken, so desperate, but when he wrapped his arm around her again, she pulled away.

She expected him to leave after that but instead, Draco kicked off his shoes and slipped into her bed, pulling her into his arms. She didn't resist this time, she couldn't. "I'm sorry," he whispered to her, burying his face into her hair. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said. I'm sorry. I love you."

His words were coming out in a messy jumble, syllables connecting together so that Hermione almost couldn't understand what he was saying. He was shaking, too.

She realized he was crying when she felt his hot tears on her neck, dripping and running like hot brands on her skin. Despite her better judgment, she turned in his arms and wound her arms around him, holding him tightly. "Don't, Draco," she whispered against his neck. "It's okay. I understand. I forgive you."

Hermione didn't know how long they lay holding each other, murmuring pretty words, but Draco eventually turned Hermione's head towards him and kissed her.

She could taste the salt from his tears, or were they hers, when they kissed. Draco was holding her so tightly, she had trouble breathing, but with her arms clamped around his neck, Hermione figured she was making him feel the same way.

"Did I," Draco asked, almost afraid of the answer, "did I hurt you?"

"No," Hermione said immediately. Draco felt a wave of relief wash over him, even though he didn't quite believe her answer. He kissed the sore spots on her shoulders from where he had held her, whispering how sorry he was with every kiss and then continued onto her hand, kissing each finger and wrist.

"I'm sorry," Draco continued to whisper, bowing his head down to kiss her neck, "I didn't want to hurt you. I've never wanted to hurt you. I love you."

It was uncharted territory for Hermione. She had never seen Draco so broken, so vulnerable before. "I know, Draco, I know." She ran her hands over his back, through his hair, trying to do all the things he liked to comfort him. Hermione waited until he was looking at her before she pulled him towards her, pressing a soft kiss on his nose. She relished in the fact that the bones felt completely in place, nothing jarring, nothing jagged. "Did I break it?" Hermione asked softly, cradling his head in her hands.

Draco laughed softly. "Yeah. That I meant; your punches really have improved."

"I'm sorry," she whispered to him. "I didn't mean to hit you that hard."

Draco shook his head. "I deserved it. Don't worry about it."

His hands were roaming under her shirt now, running across her stomach, in the valley between her breasts and Hermione moaned. He had one hand on the buttons of her shirt, deftly undoing them and when he had successfully undone them all, he pushed the fabric aside and kissed every inch of exposed skin. Merlin, but how could he have thought for a second that he wanted to hurt her? Hurt this beautiful, beautiful woman in front of him? Hurt the best thing that had ever happened to him?

"Draco," Hermione murmured, and Draco knew what that tone of voice implied. It meant that she wanted him, and wanted him right now. He smiled and paused to take his shirt off, whipping it over his head quickly and letting it fall to the ground.

Hermione's hands were on him instantly, exploring the smooth, pale planes of his chest. She loved the feel of his skin, always cool and firm under her touch.

When Draco had successfully undone his belt buckle, Hermione used her foot to push his pants down from his hips. Boldly, she reached into his boxers and grazed the length of him, eliciting a low hiss out of him.

"I want to feel you," Hermione whispered, pulling his ear down to her mouth and flicking her tongue over it. "I need to feel you inside me."

It was all the stimulus Draco needed and in an instant, he had her knickers off and had buried himself deep inside her moist heat.

"Oh, god," Hermione moaned, turning her head to the side and biting her lip. Draco closed his eyes so that the sight of her wouldn't make him finish then and there.

"Are you all right?" Draco murmured, pressing his lips to her closed eyelids. He was suddenly extremely frightened of hurting her.

Hermione smiled in the darkness. "More than all right."

Draco began moving slowly, savoring all the things about her he normally noticed only in passing. The sound of her moan when he was completely sheathed inside of her, the way her eyes fluttered as he moved, the way she wrapped herself around him as if to say that he was hers and hers alone.

He was moving at a frustratingly slow pace, intent on appreciating all the things about her instead of reaching the finish line but Hermione was slowly coming undone around him, grasping at her pillow, squeezing his waist with her legs. Draco forced himself to maintain calm and keep his control.

"Draco," she moaned, clawing at his back, not bothering with the pain she might be causing him. It was like climbing a very steep mountain and Hermione was just trying to reach the top. The build up itself was almost enough to make her eyes roll back in her head, and as she tried to hold on to him, Draco grunted. She knew he could feel it too.

Draco increased his pace ever so slightly and that was all it took for Hermione to completely lose it. She came with a cry, moaning his name, biting softly on his neck. The sight of her was too much for him and Draco followed her over the edge into pure bliss, holding onto her like she was the only thing left in the world.

---

Draco hated eating alone. He hadn't before, but ever since he had discovered how nice it was to have someone to share a meal with, eating alone had just seemed rather pathetic to him. He sighed as he observed all the other couples around him, feeding food to each other, laughing and batting eyelashes, generally doing things that made him want to be sick.

He hated the fact that the entire world seemed to be happy, save for him.

Finishing off his meal as quickly as he could, Draco paid the bill and left. He reminded himself that however hungry he was in the future, to not go back to that establishment. Everyone there was simply too happy for their own good.

As he walked back to the Ministry, Draco passed the ice cream shop that she loved. Despite his head protesting, he knew he was smiling.

He pushed the door open and the bell overhead chimed loudly. His throat was constricting, this was just too familiar to him. He wanted to hit something. Since when had he become such a pathetic, sniveling fool?

"Can I help you?" the girl behind the counter asked.

Draco looked at her as if he didn't really believe what was happening. "Coffee," he said suddenly. "One scoop of coffee."

"Cone or cup?"

"Cup."

He could now safely say that he was the most pathetic man to ever emerge from a broken relationship. He hated coffee ice cream with a passion, she was the one who liked it and on the rare occasions he did indulge in the treat, he always preferred a cone as opposed to a cup.

Draco paid the girl and held the cup stupidly in his hand, wondering what he was supposed to do with it now. He considered throwing it away but as he passed the rubbish bin, he couldn't bring himself to toss her favorite pudding in. Then he considered stopping by her office and giving it to her, because really, he had no use for it, but he supposed that she would rather drink a vial of poison than accept something from him.

Scowling, he brought the plastic spoon to his mouth. Draco was surprised. It was different this time, the taste was exactly the same, bitter but yet, slightly sweet. To Draco, it tasted just like her.

He knew exactly who it was who came rushing through his door because she always entered his office in the same fashion; like she was in a hurry to get somewhere and without knocking.

Draco whipped his feet off his desk and Hermione glared at him. "Do you ever do any work?" she asked, leaning forward on his desk.

He stood up and caught her lips with his for a quick kiss. "Sure I do. I just signed off on all those documents." Hermione looked over to the three measly pieces of parchment sitting on his desk.

"Tough job," she said sarcastically.

"Thank you for understanding my pain."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "If you're willing to take a break from your immensely difficult job of signing papers and sitting around, I'm hungry. I'll let you buy me lunch."

Draco laughed and summoned his cloak, which Hermione promptly took and wrapped around her own shoulders. Draco glared playfully at her.

"Do you want me to be cold?" Hermione asked primly.

Draco took her hand and together they walked out of his office. "Touché."

Hermione wasn't one to publicly flaunt what she and Draco had in front of the entire Ministry. In fact, it had stemmed several fights when he had tried to kiss her in public and she had declined. However, as she walked out of the Ministry hand in hand with Draco, she only glared and sneered at the people who were looking at her as if she had gone crazy. She sighed. He was rubbing off on her.

"Are you hungry?" Hermione asked.

"Not in the least." She had made eggs that morning and Draco had always been a sucker for her scrambled eggs. They somehow tasted better than others.

"Okay. Good. I know where I want to go for lunch, then."

Draco simply shrugged. "Lead the way."

And so she did. She led him all the way across the street and stopped in front of the ice cream store, looking at Draco expectantly, eagerly.

"This is where you want to go for lunch?" Draco asked, trying to hide the amusement in his voice.

"Yes. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Only with the fact that ice cream is for after lunch. Not for lunch."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, Draco. You can be so simple minded."

Draco poked her in the side, causing Hermione to let out a loud squeal. The man behind the counter looked up at them in shock. "I'm so sorry," Hermione said to the man. "My boyfriend is a prat."

Draco simply laughed at the man's shocked expression. He was sure that other couples didn't use words like 'prat' as terms of endearment.

Hermione attention diverted to the array of ice cream flavors in front of her. "I'll have four scoops of the coffee," Hermione said eventually.

The man behind the counter didn't seem bothered by the vast amount of ice cream. "Will that be all?"

Hermione elbowed Draco. "Want anything?" she asked, still concentrated on the flavors.

Draco held up his hand. "That's all."

Hermione smirked. "He's afraid he'll get fat," she said. Draco poked her sides again, but this time, she only squirmed.

He paid for Hermione's so called lunch and led her out of the store, trying to ignore the sounds of pleasure and content coming from Hermione. They were doing wicked things to his head.

"This is delicious. You have to try this." Hermione spooned a healthy amount of the dessert for Draco and brought it to his mouth.

He let the flavor swirl in his mouth before swallowing. "That's vile, Granger." He always did fall back into the habit of calling her that every once in a while.

Hermione frowned. "How can that be? You love coffee."

"That tastes nothing like coffee. It's all sugar."

"I knew it. You are worried about getting fat."

They walked back into the building, eyes still on them and now Hermione's very large cup of ice cream. Draco didn't care one bit; if they wanted to talk about Hermione and him, then they could, by all means.

When they were back in the privacy of his office, Draco sat back on his chair and pulled Hermione into his lap.

He tsked. "You'd better watch the ice cream, Hermione. You're getting heavy." He sent an angelic smile her way for good measure.

Hermione gasped and wiggled around in his lap. "You are such a jerk!"

He knew that she was trying to hurt him with the way she was moving, but in actuality she was as light as a feather, despite large amounts of ice cream. "Love, I'm only telling you the truth."

"I'll have you know I'm lighter than Ginny."

Draco shrugged. "She's had a baby. It's only natural."

Hermione scowled at him and shoved a large scoop of ice cream into her mouth to spite him. "Well, fat as I may be, you're going to have to live with it."

Draco couldn't help himself, he laughed. She was riveting when she was flustered. "I was kidding," he said eventually. "You're not fat and you're not heavy in the least."

Hermione continued to glower at him but suddenly pressed her lips to his, catching him off guard. The sweet taste of coffee ice cream lingered on her mouth, and as Draco returned her kiss, he decided that maybe, the flavor wasn't so bad after all.

---

Hermione summoned her cloak from her bedroom and fastened it around her shoulders. Tonight wasn't about him, it wasn't about the fact that she had apparently turned into a masochist, it wasn't about anything at all. It was simply her wanting to go to the place she loved most in the world. The date was inconsequential.

She wished that she had felt differently, that what she felt for him would have gone away. But to say that it had would only be kidding herself. She still felt the same way about him, she still loved him wholly and completely, she still wished that things could go back to the way they once had been.

But they couldn't, and Hermione knew that. So she forced herself to move on, to try dating other people, to live her life as everyone was expecting her to

She didn't know how much longer she could keep the façade up. It was taking its toll on her, she knew that, and pretending she was okay was just getting harder and harder.

It was coming to the point that she wasn't sure what she was supposed to do next. Just keep living, Harry had told her.

What kind of life was she living? She knew that it was only a matter of time before she broke down completely. Hermione was worried about what she would do when that day came. Maybe she should accept Harry and Ginny's offer to stay with them for a while.

Sighing, Hermione closed her eyes and concentrated on the one place in the world she wanted to be.

"If you don't open this door, I will open it myself Hermione! Don't think I won't."

"Go ahead! I'd like to see you try!"

Draco pounded his fist on the closed door. "Just open the fucking door!"

"I already said to fuck off! What part of 'fuck off' don't you understand?"

That was it, Draco thought and he fished for the emergency key she had hidden under her doormat. The silver chain lock still stood in Draco's way and without second thought, he blasted the damn thing of its hinges.

Something came flying in the direction of his head the minute he had the door open and Draco had the good sense to duck. "What the fuck!" he yelled as the plate shattered against the wall. "Have you lost it?"

"No!" Hermione shouted. "It's you who's lost it!"

Draco scoffed. "Explain."

"Who the fuck was she?"

"Who?"

"That girl sitting on your desk! Who else do you think?"

"My secretary? You're jealous of my secretary?"

Hermione's eyes almost bugged out of her head. "Your secretary? I wasn't aware that you paid your secretary to act like a first class hooker!" Another dish came flying at his head.

"What the fuck are you so angry about? I didn't do anything!"

"You didn't do anything? I've heard from the whole Ministry what you did!"

"What, what did I supposedly do?"

"Why don't you ask yourself that?"

Draco kicked some of the glass on the floor. "For fuck's sake, Hermione. Just tell me what I did."

"Did you kiss her?" Hermione's voice dropped low and deadly, a skill she had subconsciously picked up from Draco.

He paused. There was no right way to answer the question. "Fuck you!" Hermione screamed at him. This time, she threw a glass.

"All right, fine. I did. It was one kiss. Big deal. Quit being a bitch about it."

Hermione closed the short distance between them, drew her hand back and slapped him as hard as she could. "Don't you try to turn this around on me, Draco. Don't you fucking dare."

Before she could slap him again, Draco caught her hand and wrenched it, causing Hermione to cry out. "What did I say about slapping me?" Draco asked harshly.

Hermione pulled out of his grasp and rolled her wrist. She would not admit to him that he had hurt her. "Why?" she asked softly. "Why? Are you bored of me? Do you not love me anymore?"

Draco simply glared at her. The truth was, he didn't know why. It had just happened.

"You know what?" Hermione was shouting again. "Forget it. Go on and fuck her. See if I care. You're just like your father; a coward who doesn't know what he has."

Mentioning his father was all it took for Draco to lose it. No one accused him of being like Lucius, not even her. "Listen to me and listen good, Granger. I kissed her because I was tired of your filthy, Mudblood mouth."

Draco was pretty sure that this was the closest thing he had ever seen to a person falling apart. Hermione's eyes filled with tears instantly and all the fight and fire she had previously seemed to suddenly evaporate.

"We're done," Hermione whispered eventually. "Since that's the way you feel, we're done. I'll have someone bring your things over to the Manor and you'll never see me again. Have a nice life."

Hermione walked calmly to her bedroom and shut the door quietly. No slamming, no shouting, nothing. Draco stood rooted in his place for a good ten minutes wondering what had just happened. He hadn't meant what he had said, it was simply the meanest, most cruel thing he could think of. He didn't think of her that way anymore.

Draco had spent the entire night at her bedroom door, pleading with her, crying, shouting for her to open it, but she never did. His things had promptly been dropped off at the Manor the next day. He had been hexed by almost the entire Weasley family and both the Potters when he had attempted to see her at work and he had sent owls saying how truly sorry he was to her everyday for a good three months, all in attempt to repair what he had broken.

He had stopped when he had seen Hermione flirting with an unnamed man some time later. It was only then Draco had realized that it really was over, that he had ruined the best thing that had ever happened to him, that he had lost the one thing in the world that truly mattered.

---

He was going on a gut instinct that she would be there tonight. It had been a year, a year since she had completely cut him out of her life, since he had called her the most unspeakable of names. Draco knew that he would be the last person that she would want to see, but he was tired of it. He was tired of missing her, he was tired of regretting what he said, he was tired of being miserable every fucking day.

Closing his eyes, he apparated to the place she loved most in the world.

The first thing Draco noticed was that it was raining in Muggle London. He walked up and down the sidewalk, looking at the people, trying to remain as calm as possible, even though his heart threatened to beat out of his chest.

Twice he had seen girls that resembled her, and he had almost grabbed both of them and snogged them senselessly but Draco had managed to catch himself in time.

Draco just wanted to see her. Never mind if she hexed off his body parts or pushed him off the bridge, he just needed to see her again. See her face, smell her scent. He was pretty sure that if he didn't see her, she could forget about pushing him off the bridge, he would do that himself.

He was about to give up when he saw her in all her bushy haired glory, standing with her back to him, her cloak billowing in the wind. Draco shook his head as if he were trying to decide if she really was there and felt his heart rise to his throat.

Without thinking, Draco darted across the street, forgetting about the cars going up and down the roads.

He stopped short when one nearly ran into him, effectively almost ending his life then and there. He stood staring stupidly at the car until it honked at him.

"What are you doing, boy? Get out of the way!" The driver honked at him again. Draco ran the rest of the way to the pavement where Hermione had already turned around, having heard the scene he had caused.

Oh, Merlin, Draco thought. He had been so intent on finding her that he hadn't thought of what to say if he did.

Had she gotten more beautiful? With her hazel eyes were wide, her pink lips slightly parted in shock and her hair wild around her face, Draco was sure she had never looked more beautiful to him. The rain made the smell of apples and cinnamon just that much stronger, and as Draco breathed in deeply, he resisted falling right onto her. Merlin, he had missed her. What he wouldn't do to have her back in his life.

"Hi," he said eventually. If it were possible, Draco would have kicked himself.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

"The bridge is a public space. I can't take a walk?"

"Not if I'm here."

Draco sighed, running his hand through his hair. It was slowly but surely getting wet. "You're fairly predictable. I wanted to see you."

She was instantly angry. "You have no right."

"Hermione, please." It seemed like all he was doing was pleading to her. "Meet me in the middle. I'm trying."

She looked him squarely in the eyes and crossed her arms. Despite her conscience telling her this was wrong, Hermione was reeling. She had suspected that he might try to find her tonight, but she hadn't wanted to get her hopes up. "What do you want, Draco?"

His heart skipped a beat when she used his given name. "I want you," he said honestly.

She stood staring at him, willing him to break, willing him to crack. "That's too bad, isn't it?" Hermione said eventually. "You can't have me."

"I'm sorry," Draco said. He knew he was grasping at straws, trying to get her to listen to him, to understand him. "You've never let me tell you that."

Hermione scoffed. "I'm sure you are," she said sarcastically. "It doesn't matter anymore. Just go. Forget it."

"It does matter," Draco insisted, grasping her arm. Hermione looked at him as if the spawn of Satan had just touched her. "I need you to know that I didn't mean what I said. I don't think of you that way anymore. I just said it. It meant nothing. She meant nothing. It was a sodding mistake I'll regret every day for the rest of my life."

He was rambling and he knew it, but she needed to understand. He needed to make sure she understood, if it was the only thing he could convince her of tonight.

"Then why, Draco? Why did you say something so hurtful?" Draco could literally see her heart breaking all over again.

"I told you, I didn't mean it. It was the most cruel thing I could think of saying. Please believe me."

Hermione was crying now, her tears mixed in with the raindrops dripping on her face. "I've never wanted to hurt you, Draco. I would never, ever say something like that to hurt you. I would never ruin what we had."

"Hermione, I know that." Draco ran his hand through is hair and let it fall pitifully to his side. "God dammit, don't you think I know that? Don't you think I've thought of that every miserable fucking day of this past year?"

Hermione shook her head, the tears tracking down her face. "Why are you telling me this? It doesn't matter anymore. I don't care anymore."

Draco shook his head. There wasn't anything he could say to counter that. He turned away.

"Draco, wait." Draco turned back to her, the hope shining in his eyes. Hermione remained impossibly hard to read. "Why did you kiss her? Was I not enough for you? Not pretty enough? Not pure enough? Did I not love you enough?"

Draco couldn't help it, he pulled her into his arms, despite her protests and punches and held her to him. "No," he whispered to her. "It had nothing to do with you." She wrenched away from him. "I was scared. I woke up one day with you in my arms, and Merlin, you were so beautiful, so peaceful, so pure, that it scared me. What I felt for you scared me."

"What, Malfoy? What did you feel? Enlighten me."

"That I couldn't live without you. That I'd give up my life in an instant just so that you could have one more breath. I loved you so much it scared the living fuck right out of me."

Hermione laughed, a cold, empty sound. "You sure had a hell of a way of showing it. Thanks for kissing her. That made me feel especially loved."

"What do you want me to say?" Draco asked. "I'm sorry. I know I hurt you. I didn't mean to; it was the last thing I wanted to do. That's all I can say."

"Then I guess we're done here." Hermione held her mouth firm, trying to keep her body from shaking as she dismissed him. She tilted her head slightly towards the stormy skies and narrowed her eyes. It was that look of determination, the look of bravery that made Draco fall for her all over again.

"I've had a lousy, shit miserable year," Draco said suddenly.

Hermione scoffed. "And you think I've had a great one? Get over yourself Draco, you've done this to yourself."

He continued on as if he hadn't heard what she had said. "I've had the most miserable year. I've been drunk most of the time. I've barely managed to keep my job. And I know why. It's because of you."

"Excuse me?"

"Everywhere I went, everything I did, you were in my mind. All I could think about was you. The whole year. How I had ruined the best thing that's ever happened to me. How I hurt the person I loved the most. How much I wanted you to forgive me, how I would give anything to have you back. You were the only thing I thought about."

Hermione didn't know what it was, the desperation and loss in his voice or the completely shattered look in his eyes that made her believe him.

"What do you want me to do, then?" Hermione asked quietly. "What are we supposed to do from here?"

"I want you to marry me."

Hermione was sure she was going into cardiac arrest. She though that he had just proposed to her, in the middle of the blasted rain. "You're insane," she breathed eventually.

"Hermione, I'm completely serious. I've spent a year, one year without you and that's more than enough. I've tried everything but I can't do this anymore. I can't live without you. I want you to marry me. I need you back in my life and I don't want you to ever leave it."

Oh, Merlin but he was serious. He wasn't blinking or anything.

"Give me three reasons why I should even consider marrying your sorry arse."

Draco could have laughed. He wondered if she remembered the first time she had said that to him. He did.

"I'm attractive as hell."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "You can't reuse reasons, Malfoy. Actually, forget it. I don't even know why I asked in the first place."

"Okay, okay," Draco said, grabbing her arm. "I've spent one year. Twelve months. Three hundred and sixty five days. Whatever you want to call it. That's all, we've been apart a year and I haven't stopped thinking about you. I haven't stopped loving you."

Hermione turned her head to the side, unwilling to look at him. If she did, she just might accept his proposal before the second reason. "That was one," she said softly.

Draco was shaking, now, but whether from the cold or because he was so damn nervous, he didn't know. "You infuriate me. You drive me crazy. You make me do things that I never would have otherwise. Your hair smells like apples and cinnamon and honestly, its downright intoxicating. The way you say my name makes me smile like a nutter. You're so bloody sexy that every time I see you, it's all I can do to not rip your clothes off and ravish you." He paused to take a breath and Draco noticed Hermione's eyes were glassy and wet with unshed tears. He laughed softly to himself. "The chances of finding someone like you again are slim to none. Hermione, you're impossible to find."

Hermione forced herself to remain cool and colleted. "You have one more."

"And lastly," Draco said, reaching his hand into his coat pocket and pulling out something he had carried with him since that night. "This was made specially for you. It's charmed so that only you can wear it. I don't know what to do with it if you don't take it."

Carefully, Hermione took the box from Draco, afraid, no, downright terrified to open it. She stared at the black velvet, getting quickly ruined by the falling rain; she couldn't do it, she just couldn't. Eventually, Draco opened it for her.

Hermione began sobbing when she saw it, damming all clichés and traditions to hell. It was beautiful, with a small ruby in the middle of a silver band, held into place by two identical black pearls on either side. The selection was obvious, a little bit of her and a little of him in the one ring and the thought he must have put into creating it made her heart clench painfully.

"Say yes," Draco whispered to her, pulling Hermione to him. "I love you and I know you still love me. Say yes and we can figure it out from there."

Without warning, Draco tilted Hermione's head up towards him and kissed her. He kissed her as though he had never kissed her before, as if she were his last breath, his last meal. He could taste the salt from her tears on his mouth, but Draco didn't care. Kissing her made him feel whole again, it made him feel complete and he never wanted to let her go.

Hermione was the one who pulled away from him, taking a complete step back to distance herself from him. "I only gave you three reasons," she whispered. "That was four."

Draco closed the distance between them and grasped her hands. "Just say yes, please Hermione. You can piss me off and I'll piss you off and you'll throw things and they'll break and we'll call each other names, but I'll never stop loving you. I'll never stop wanting to be with you. So what's it going to be, Granger?"

Hermione didn't know if it was the familiarity of his words or the fact that she just couldn't resist him anymore that made her resolve deteriorate. "Okay," she whispered. "Okay."

"Okay? As in 'okay, you'll marry me'?"

She rolled her eyes. "That's what I said, isn't it?"

He kissed her then, wrapping his arms around her so that every space between them was completely gone. He kissed her, trying to convey how sorry he was, how much he regretted what he had done, how much he loved her and Hermione held onto him, pulling him as close as possible, trying to convey her forgiveness. Because it was through his kiss that she had fallen for him once before and it was through the passion, his sorrow, his regret and love he poured into this kiss that made her fall for him all over again.

Author's Note- Thanks so much for reading! This pretty much wrote itself, as I listened to the song, the idea generated itself and the writing was extremely easy. I hope that Draco and Hermione weren't too out of character; what I wanted to convey were two people so desperately in love with each other that they're miserable apart, but I realize that this story line isn't particularly them.

Thanks for reading, regardless!