A/N: Just a little one-shot I have been itching to write. Enjoy! I am not affiliated with the creators or producers of Harry Potter. No profit is made from this.

Pendulum

Saying goodbye to her was far more complicated and painful than Draco Malfoy expected. For most of his life as an adult, Draco believed that the most complicated time of his life was over. That the hardships he endured during his days as a teenager was over and that life would never be so painful again. He was wrong. Dead wrong.

The call came unexpectedly. He was working on a pile of paperwork in a hurry to complete it early. He wanted to quickly stop by Diagon Alley to purchase his wife a bouquet of enchanted roses. However, his plans were thrown into jeopardy when the news reached him.

"Mr Malfoy?" Sophie, his secretary's timid voice came from his office door. Draco looked up, annoyed that he had been interrupted. He had specifically told her not to interrupt him. But the look on her face suddenly made the blonde thick twice about lecturing her. She was standing rigid in the doorway, her eyes wide in fright. She was playing with the hem of her shirt, something she often did when nervous.

"Yes?" Draco breathed.

Sophie bit her lip and looked down at her feet. Then she looked up again into Draco's gray eyes. "There's an Auror here...she claims that she needs to speak with you."

Draco frowned. An Auror? Usually this news wouldn't bother him, but ever since the war, he has always been wary of Aurors – despite the fact that he had been pardoned of all his charges. Draco sighed. "I'm busy, Sophie. Tell the Auror to come back later."

Sophie shifted from her one foot to another and then nervously breathed in very deeply. Draco gave her an odd look.

"She says it's urgent, sir," Sophie mumbled. Draco sighed in annoyance, dropped his quill and stood up. Sophie squeaked and then hurried out of his office, Draco following her in silence. Once he stepped into the open area where Sophie's desk was located, he spotted someone familiar sitting on a chair by the front door. At first he didn't want to believe that it was her, but the bushy hair and eyes gave it away. Hermione Granger looked at him, her eyes narrow, but somewhat sympathetic at the same time.

"Granger," Draco acknowledged her with a nod of his head. Hermione stood up and held out her hand. He looked at her oddly, then reached out and shook her hand, feeling slightly awkward. As soon as Hermione let his hand go, Draco felt much more relieved. "What brings you here?"

Hermione cleared her throat, opened her large bag and pulled out a small ivory hair clip. Draco recognized the rose design instantly and felt his stomach drop. Hermione held the hair clip gently and waited for him to take it. Draco looked into her eyes, searching for answers, but she gave away nothing.

"What is the meaning of this?" Draco demanded.

Hermione smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, Draco. We did everything we could..."

Draco's heart stopped. He shook his head, not wanting to believe what she was trying to convey through her words. "You're...lying!"

Hermione merely continued to smile weakly.

Draco glared at her. "You're lying, Granger."

Hermione sighed, "I'm not. We found Astoria's body this morning. We tried to contact you..."

Draco was ready to strangle something. "You did, did you? You have to work on your method of contact then, don't you?"

But Draco knew he was being unfair. He had been in a meeting all morning, which meant that a message would never have reached him. Sophie knew that she was never allowed to interrupt a meeting...even for emergencies.

"How?" Draco finally mumbled, "Where?"

Hermione noticed the pained look the blonde carried and placed her hand on his shoulder, hoping it would give at least some sort of comfort. It was unusual for her to see him like this. The rumors were true...he really has changed.

"Killing curse," Hermione replied, "In what I presume is your bedroom. We are chasing the murderer as we speak. Harry is doing everything in his power to put the guilty where he belongs."

"Potter?" Draco asked, alarmed. Hermione merely nodded. A few moments of silence passed. "Can I see her?"

"Of course."

Seeing Astoria was like a slap in the face. Draco paled when his eyes landed on her. She looked so...peaceful. For a moment he actually thought she was still alive, but in a deep sleep. The white sheet covering her body was all that proved to him that she was indeed dead and that she wasn't going to wake up again.

Draco reached out and touched Astoria's brow. Her skin was ice cold, but still soft like he remembered it. His heart clenched painfully as he stroked her cheeks. This would be the last time he would be able to touch her. To feel her soft skin under his finger tips. Last week was the last time they made love. And last night was the last time they actually had a proper conversation.

And then it dawned on Draco that they had had an argument before he left for work in the morning. It was a rather silly argument about a party. Astoria wished to attend, while Draco wanted to stay at home and relax with a butterbeer and his wife in his arms. Draco had left after Astoria tried to coax him to change his mind.

Regret pooled within Draco as he thought about the argument. His last moment with her had to be such a pathetic argument. Why didn't he just agree and kiss her goodbye this morning?

"I'm sorry, Draco," Hermione whispered beside him as Draco closed his eyes and grasped Astoria's limp fingers. Silence enveloped the room, the only noise coming from a flickering light above them.

Hermione was stunned by Draco's behavior. True, she never believed he was heartless, but he has been behaving rather well for himself. He hasn't insulted her yet, nor made any sneer comments. In fact, he has been nothing but a perfect gentleman – opening doors on their way to the Auror Office and even trying to make small talk, despite the fact that his wife had just died. And now here he was, sitting so silently beside his wife's remains, his hand grasped around hers. He was absolutely still. He made no movement, nor any sound. Hermione was almost impressed by how collected he seemed to be. But she knew that it was all a ruse. Hermione stepped closer and placed a hand on Draco's shoulder. He didn't react.

"Draco," Hermione whispered, knowing full well that the past was well behind them. Calling him 'Malfoy' would just make her seem to be the immature teenager girl she was many years ago. "Draco...it's okay. You can cry. In fact, you should cry. Bottling your emotions isn't healthy."

But Draco did not respond. Hermione glanced at Astoria Malfoy's pale face. Astoria was beautiful, Hermione had to admit. Draco at least had tastes, especially since he seemed to have had a thing for Pansy when they were younger. What he saw in her was quite a mystery sometimes, even to Hermione.

"Draco," Hermione trailed off, "If you nee comfort, I'm here. I know I might not be your most favorite person in the world...but, sometimes a person just needs a shoulder to cry on."

"She's gone," Draco croaked.

Hermione blinked. "Yes...I'm really sorry, Draco." Hermione noticed that Draco was shaking now. She leaned down to look over his shoulder. And surely enough, there were tears flowing down his cheeks. Hermione felt something tug at her heart, so she wrapped her arms around him from behind and pulled him tightly against her. Draco went rigid, but he did not tell her to move. Instead he continued to silently sob and allowed Hermione to hold him as he did so.

Hermione grumbled under her breath as she stepped out of the interrogation room and headed for her office. She pulled her fingers through her hair, then moved to pulling her mane into a tight and messy bun. She grabbed her coat and then left, heading for a fireplace to disapparate.

She appeared in front of the Malfoy Manor. She looked up at the large monstrosity before her and started to have second thoughts. Ever since Astoria Malfoy's death, Draco has not been the same. According to his secretary, Sophie, he even refused to come to work on most days. Fed up with all his depressed nonsense, Hermione has decided to take it upon herself to drag him out of his house.

And now here she stands. Inhaling a deep breath, Hermione knocked on the door. She really hoped this wasn't a bad idea. The last time she saw him was on the day of Astoria's murder. They haven't spoken since. Hermione had a feeling he might regret showing his weak side in front of her.

The door opened, revealing Draco looking far better than she expected him to be. She had imagined him to be trashed, drunk and dirty. However, Draco was clean and somewhat bright. In fact, he actually suddenly seemed rather attractive...

Draco quirked an eyebrow when he saw Hermione. "Granger?"

Hermione snapped from her daze and looked up into Draco's gray eyes. "Hello, Draco. Don't you think you can call me by my first name now?"

Draco seemed taken aback, but he shrugged and stepped aside to allow her inside. Hermione shook her head. Draco looked at her, confused. "Are you coming in, Hermione?"

Hermione smiled when her name rolled off his lips. She then held out her hand to him. Draco looked down and stared at her hand as if it was a foreign object. He then looked back up into her eyes, questioning her.

"The pendulum hasn't stopped moving," Hermione stated, "So I suggest you get a move on with life...but you don't have to do it alone. I'm here for you, Draco."

Draco watched her for several minutes. Hermione waited, hoping that she didn't look like an idiot. Just when she was going to drop her arm and leave, despite her determination, Draco reached out slowly and hesitantly allowed his fingers to brush past hers. Hermione smiled and grabbed his hand, causing him to gasp and pulled him out of the house.

"Good decision," Hermione stated as she led him down the path, "Only, you're stuck with me now."

And really, he was. Draco had no idea how Hermione was about to worm herself into his life.

The End