A/N I have just recently started writing again, and after reading many fics where things didn't exactly turn out like I wanted them to, I decided the best way to get my idea of Draco/Hermione out of my head was to write it down. Please excuse my bad writing. Any comments and criticism is greatly welcomed. We only grown stronger through our faults.
Hermione couldn't breathe. She looked out the window, and couldn't think of a reason as to why she was there. What was keeping her there?
"Hermione, what's wrong?" Ginny came into the room, and Hermione turned towards the red head. She didn't know how to tell her, that she thought she was making the biggest mistake of her life. Ginny tilted her head to the side, unsure of what was going through Hermione's head.
"Nothing. well… I don't know. I don't know how to tell you what I'm feeling without making you upset, or angry with me." Hermione said, her fingers pulling at the veil atop her head. She glanced over at Ginny, and quickly looked away, out towards the window again. She could see everyone setting up for the evening. There were white lawn chairs encircled around an awning, and over to the left she could see a white tent with flowers cascading down the poles. All this work, for nothing. I've put this family through a lot these past years, how will I be able to look them in the eyes ever again?
"Hermione, just tell me what's wrong. You're not acting yourself. You've just got cold feet, everyone gets them. Hell, I know I did when Harry and I got hitched." Ginny smiled, but it disappeared quickly when Hermione looked at her again. She could see the tears falling from Hermione's eyes, sliding down her cheeks to fall onto the floor. This was not cold feet. "Uhm. I'll be right back." Ginny disappeared out through the door in search of her husband.
Hermione slid into the car, her white dress filling the front seat. "Harry, please, just drive. I—I have to get out of here." She leaned her head against the window and watched as the church passed them. Those white chairs, filled with her family and friends; the alter, which would not be used tonight; that big white tent where no celebratory dancing and partying would occur. She closed her eyes and sighed as her best friend drove, to where she wasn't sure, but surely she was happy it was anywhere but there. For the first time in months Hermione felt a weight lifted off of her shoulders, and the feeling of uneasiness she had up in the room was gone.
The bed was too comfortable to leave. Hermione rolled over onto her back. Great, now what am I going to do? She thought to herself. She was unsure of what her next move would be, and it wasn't a pleasant feeling. She was always in control, and hadn't felt this way since the War. Get a grip Hermione. She sighed, she'd have to come out of hiding sometime. Her work must be piling up. Shit, work. Hermione heaved herself up onto her elbows and looked about the room. Harry had done a nice job picking the hotel she was staying in. After they had driven away from the church, both still set in their muggle habits, they had apparated to a small cottage with a wonderful beach view. I wonder if he's ever taken Ginny here. If not, he should. She'd have to talk to him about it.
After she took a long shower she tidied up the room, putting her things back into her suitcase. The last thing she had to pack was the wedding dress that hung against the closet door. She thought about leaving it, a nice forlorn surprise for the next visitors. But her judgement thought better and she packed it into a garment bag. Suitcase in hand, and her dress slung over her shoulder, Hermione apparated back to her flat in London.
Ah, home sweet home, she thought bitterly. She put her suitcase down and walked into her bedroom, opening the closet door. She hung the dress in the corner and pushed all of her clothes against it, as if to hide it from her view. Closing the door she walked across the floor and sat on her bed. Closing her eyes, she sighed once more. She'd made a mess of things. "I wonder if Harry's talked to Ron at all," it seemed so silly to be talking to herself, but there was no one else in the room, and thinking to herself only made her lonliness that much real. "Well, talking to myself doesn't exactly make me feel like I'm not alone." Hermione leaned back against her bed and closed her eyes.
She awoke to a tapping at her kitchen window. An owl was waiting for her, a letter attached to it's leg. She opened the window and searched around the kitchen for a payment to the owl. After she had given him two mouse treats she finally looked at the card. There was no name on the front and she was apprehensive to open it. She teared the envelope open and read it's contents. It was a letter from Ginny, telling her to not be afraid, that everything was going to work out. There was even a bit in there about Ginny being there when Hermione felt the need to talk.
It had been weeks since Hermione had seen any of the Weasley family, even since she had talked to Harry. He hadn't pressed her for any information, hadn't bombarded her with questions about her speedy getaway from her own wedding. She had just gotten off of work, a big publishing firm in London, and was now walking to her favorite cafe in Muggle London. Her flat was only a few blocks away. Both Harry and Ron had scoffed when she told them she was turing down a Ministry job and was to instead take up in Muggle London, to work and live away from the corruption of the Ministry. She was still apprehensive towards the Ministry after the War. She felt wrong to go work for a system that had failed them greatly as children.
"Afternoon Miss Hermione, how was the wedding?!" The waitress at the cafe asked, already handing Hermione her drink before she could order it. "Or should I say Mrs. Weasley?" The waitress grinned at her.
"Well, it didn't go quite as planned." Hermione smiled sadly and took the drink from the young woman.
"Oh," the waitress faltered, at a loss for words, "I—you know what, that one's on me." She looked at Hermione, her eyes showing pity and quickly went to help another customer.
Sitting at a table closest to the window she pulled out a book and started reading. Her thoughts subsided and she lost herself in the good book. Her thoughts were pulled back to reality when she felt someone staring at her. She looked up and locked eyes with none other than Draco Malfoy. What could he possibly be doing here, in a Muggle cafe none-the-less. And why in Merlin's beard is he staring at me? Hermione blinked and looked back down at her book. Glancing back at Malfoy she noticed her was looking down at his own book, but didn't seem to be reading it. His hands nervously fidgeted and she looked under the table and could see his leg bouncing against the other.
He looked up at her and their eyes met again. This time though he looked down quickly. Hermione frowned, and closed her book. She looked down at her watch and decided it was time to head home. Picking up her bag and shoving the book inside she looked over at the counter and gave a small wave to the waitress.
She was almost to her flat when she heard him call her name.
"Granger!" He was jogging up to her, and stopped when she turned around, standing but a few feet from each other.
"Yes, Malfoy?" She didn't have time to be ridiculed, not now, actually not ever for that matter. She wasn't in the mood to play their demeaning childhood games. Looking at him, she could see that there was no malice in his eyes, that he actually seemed to be quite nervous and didn't speak but instead continued to fidget with his hands. "Malfoy, what do you want?"
"I—I wanted to—Listen you— we," He sighed. This was much easier when he went over it in his head back at the cafe. He tried again. "Can we talk?" She furrowed her brow, but made no move to walk away. "Granger—uhm, Hermione," She raised her eyebrow, surprised at the touch of familiarity. "I wanted to apologize for my behavior back at school. I know I could never repay you, nor would you ever accept it, but I wanted you to know that I've had a lot of time to think upon my actions, and although they were clouded with childhood upbringings, they were wrong. I was wrong." He stopped, watched as her expression changed from confusion, to a subtle hint of anger. He was expecting her to shout at him, to tell him off, as she should, she had every right to.
"Why do you assume I would never accept your apology? It happened, yes it was horrible, but we were only children. Pawns in a game we didn't fully understand. Hell, even now things aren't all that clear. Don't be such a martyrous arse." She looked up at him, and crossed her arms. "You think you're the only one to have burned bridges? Yes, I accept your apology, although you may still be the same child from school, but alas, we all have to grow up, and I think you have." She waited for him to say something back. She watched as his grey eyes searched her face, and could see him trying to work out the next thing he was to say.
"No, obviously, but what I'm trying to say is that I am sorry, for my child-like antics, in school. For being a complete arse to you and Potter and the Weasel—I mean Weasley." He watched as her jaw clenched at the mention of the red-head. He tried to ease the tension."Sorry, old habits, I know you and Weasley are engaged, soon to be married no?"
"What, because I've accepted your apology you think you have the right to pass light conversation?" Hermione huffed and turned around, heading back to her flat. Malfoy, of all people, to bring up Ron. She shook her head and took her key out of her purse. Opening the door she started walking up the stairs and when she didn't hear the door slam behind her she looked back. Malfoy was walking up the stairs behind her. Oh! The nerve of this man!
"Are you following me? What do you want? I've accepted your apology and I do not wish to talk to you about the weather Malfoy."
"I live here." He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, a small smug smirk formed against his mouth, but was gone in an instant. Old habits indeed she thought.
"Seeing you in a muggle cafe was damn near unthinkable, but, you've actually taken to residing alongside muggles? Who are you?" She asked him, and watched as he started to climb the stairs again, his keys in his hands. He passed her and walked the hallway, stopping at the flat across from hers. Opening the door he stopped in the frame.
"You'd be surprised, at how much I've changed since we were eleven Hermione." He gave her a sad smile and walked into his flat and closed the door leaving Hermione standing on the stairs, trying to process the fact that Draco Malfoy was her neighbor.