Hello :) This is just a one-shot I was inspired to write after listening to the song "Human" by The Human League, and I recommend listening to it either before or after reading this if you haven't heard it before. And even if you have, listen to it anyway because it's a great song. I hope you like it! Read and review!
He didn't look at her as he spoke. He couldn't. He hated seeing her cry, and it was certain that she would. He could already hear her shallow breaths through her silence, the tell-tale sign that her throat was constricting and the tears were getting ready to come. He'd been around her enough to recognize the sequence.
"I'm sorry," he said again, and it was then that she began to cry. He closed his eyes at the sound, as if by shutting off one sense he'd be able to exonerate the other. He knew that this usually had the opposite effect though.
He thought back to how they had gotten to this point. Him confessing his sins to her in the bedroom of his flat.
The if only's piled into his head, wanting to take the blame off of him, but they only succeeded in making him more aware that it would be his fault if their relationship fell apart. There was no justification that would help him, and he didn't want there to be.
He was supposed to have been strong for six months. Just six months. Exactly six months.
He only made it five months, eleven days, eight hours. Then he lost.
"When does your flight leave?" He asked, even though he knew precisely when her plane departed and what time she would have to be at the airport. He just wanted to feign ignorance with her at least once more. Maybe if he pretended he had forgotten when she was to go, he wouldn't get into too much trouble if she were a little late.
"I told you," she said in exasperation, though there was a slight smile on her face as she hit him lightly on his bare chest. "My flight is at two. I need to be at the airport no later than eleven-thirty."
"So I have two more hours to commit your body to memory then," he smirked, rolling on top of her and kissing her hard. He pulled the sheet of the bed up and over them to hide them from the light of day.
"As if you couldn't draw it with your eyes closed already," she said with a whimper as he brought his lips to her neck, while his hands travelled elsewhere."You've been memorizing me for the past ten hours all ready."
"It's never enough, Granger."
They ceased talking as he marked her everywhere he could, both of them wanting to remember the feeling of each other. The memory is all they'd be able to have for the next half of a year.
Two hours later found them reluctantly untangling themselves from each other, only to reunite once again in the shower. But that was the last time.
They ate breakfast at her favorite restaurant and then apparated to the airport, each of them holding one of her two large suitcases.
"Are you sure you have to go?" he asked, whispering the question into her ear as he held her close to him. They were standing outside the security checkpoint, the farthest he'd be able to go with her. People were staring at the intimate embrace they were sharing, but he could've cared less.
"Yes," she answered, her voice shaky from trying not to cry. "The laws for magical creatures are far more ethically advanced in America, and if we're going to significantly change the ones we have here then it's best to study the ones others already have in place. As much as I want to stay here, this is important to me Draco."
"I know. I'm not going to stop you, not that I could anyway," he laughed.
"It's only six months," she said, focusing on one of the buttons of his shirt.
"Just six months."
"Exactly six months. We'll make it."
"Owl me whenever you can."
"Or you could get a mobile like everyone else."
"Fine, I'll get a mobile. Just don't get upset if I call you all the time."
"I won't," she smiled, but only for a moment. "I better go now."
He nodded in half-hearted agreement, and took her face in his hands to kiss her one last time. He was about to pull away when she put her hands on the back of his head and held him to her, not wanting it to end.
When their lips finally parted, she gave him one last look of farewell before heading quickly into the security line.
He watched as she made her way through the line, before disappearing in a crowd of other passengers waiting to be screened.
He had already apparated home by the time he realized he hadn't even told her he loved her.
He got a mobile, and they called each other often those first three months. But then the phone calls became less often, and games of phone tag ensued instead. They both understood that they were busy, and that even though they didn't talk to each other every day, it didn't mean they loved each other less.
But his days were either filled with work, or sitting at home, and the loneliness began to seep in. He went out with his friends from time to time, but they too had busy schedules that didn't leave much room for recreation. Besides, they weren't the company he was longing for. He wanted someone to talk to, to hold, to kiss, to love- and the only person he wanted to do those things with was thousands of miles away.
He thought of calling her, but it was in the middle of her work day, and she most likely wouldn't answer. He tried to comfort himself with the fact that it would be less than two months before he would see her again.
Then Celia Slater came, his boss' temporary assistant, as his actual one was out on maternity leave. She was a lean, strawberry blonde, with green eyes that always caught Draco off guard. That and she was leggy. Draco, and the rest of his department for that matter, would've been lying if he said he hadn't stared at them far longer than necessary.
"Draco," she smiled at him. "You're coming to the party tonight aren't you? For Benji's birthday?"
"I don't know, I still have to finish up the Carter case."
"Oh come on, you can finish it tomorrow and it will be fine. You haven't done anything with us since the office party two months ago, and all I ever see you do is work. Come out with us, take a break."
"I'll try to make it," he said with a laugh. "But I'm not making any promises."
"That's good enough for me. It's at eight at Prospero's."
"Alright."
He went to that party, and he found himself going to the others he was invited to as well. Besides those, he began going out to lunch or dinner with his department mates whenever his usual friends weren't available. He had actually come to anticipate these outings, when previously he had avoided them at all costs.
It became clear to him that the reason he looked forward to these gatherings was Celia. She was always the one to invite him, and he genuinely enjoyed her company. She was easy to talk to, and pleasant to be around. There were a couple of times that they were the last two to leave wherever they had gone, and ended up continuing to spend the night in each other's company.
It never occurred to Draco that this could become a dangerous practice. He just thought he had made a new friend. A new friend that just happened to be female.
It wasn't until one particular Friday night, when he and his coworkers had decided to end their work week with a night out on the town, that he realized how far he had unknowingly let their friendship come.
"Everything alright Dray?" Celia asked him over the loud beat of the music. They were at a club, and while everyone else was out on the dance floor, he was sitting at the booth they had gotten knocking back another shot of firewhiskey. " You've been out of it all day. Actually, you've been out of it most of this week."
"I'm fine, really," he said, though it wasn't really convincing. "It's just that I haven't heard from Hermione since Sunday before last."
"Ah, I see. You're girlfriend. Well, she must be really busy if she can't find the time to call you."
"Yes, really busy." Draco took another shot, and Celia took one as well.
"Dance with me," she said, and before Draco could give an answer she pulled him up out of his seat and led him to the dance floor.
Through his alcohol induced haze, Draco was vaguely aware of how close she was to him, and how he probably should've put more space between them. He didn't though, allowing her to wrap her hands around his neck and use her own body to guide his to the beat of the music.
"Stop thinking about her Draco," she said, bringing her face closer to his. "If she really cared she'd call. I know I'd call. I'd call you every day."
He could feel her breath on him. It surprisingly smelt like mint with a hint of strawberry, despite the fact that she had been drinking just as much as him. He then wondered what it would taste like.
"I really like you Draco," she purred. "Every time I'm with you I never want to leave, and I dread when the time comes I have to say goodbye. Don't make me say goodbye tonight Draco."
She was gazing right into his eyes, and through his peripheral vision he noticed her lick her lips. It was with that one motion that he lost all self control.
He kissed her.
Less than five minutes later and she had apparated them to her flat, their mouths still attached and breathing heavy.
They didn't release each other till they were in her bedroom. She pulled off his shirt, while he pulled down the zipper of her dress, sliding the garment off her the moment it was free. He rid her of her bra and panties next, leaving her naked in front of him. In his rush of lust he brought her to him, crushing her lips to his, and relishing the moan she released at the action. He stepped them back until the back of his knees hit the bed, then he turned them around and lay her down, positioning himself above her.
He kissed her again, waiting until he was out of breath before moving down to her neck. She undid his trousers, and he felt her fingertips against his skin as she slid them down his body taking his boxers with them.
"Make love to me Draco," she sighed.
Draco blinked. Love? He didn't love her. He was just… what was he doing?
He suddenly became hyper aware that he was naked with a woman whose hair was too blonde and too straight, complexion was too fair, and eyes were too green. He wanted brown hair that was curly beyond reason, skin kissed by the sun, and eyes the color of milk chocolate.
He wanted Hermione.
He leapt out of the bed and began to hurriedly locate his clothes.
"What's the matter?" Celia asked, sitting up.
Draco threw her her dress, which he had found next to his trousers, not wanting to see her bare body anymore. "I have to go."
He apparated himself home a moment later without giving her time to speak. He took a long shower, wanting to cleanse himself of his actions, but it did nothing to erase the guilt and shame he felt at what had transpired that night.
Five months, eleven days, eight hours. That was how long he had lasted before succumbing to his loneliness, and he hated himself for it.
Hermione had called him the next day, and apologized for it being so long since they had last talked. They spent the next three hours talking to each other, but not once did Draco bring up what he had done.
He picked her up from the airport when she returned, and caught her when she jumped into his arms. He took a few seconds just to look at her, soak in the fact that she was really there standing in front of him.
It was then that the butterflies of dread began to sink in. He knew he'd have to tell her, or it'd destroy him.
They dropped off her things at her flat before going out for an early dinner and then making their way to his flat.
That was when Hermione brought up that he seemed distant and distracted. That was when he told her everything.
And now here she was, sitting on the edge of his bed, crying.
"I don't know what I was thinking Hermione," he said. "Letting it get that far. I know I have no excuse, except that I'm weak. I understand if… if you don't want to be with me anymore."
She hadn't said anything since he had begun to explain what had happened, and her silence was killing him. She was holding her face in her hands, the tears slipping through the cracks of her fingers.
"Hermione," he said, taking a chance and going over to her and running his hands through her hair. "I'm sorry. Please... forgive me."
She took her hands away from her face, revealing her wet, red eyes to him.
"Draco," she said through ragged breath, and turning away from him. "I…you aren't the only one who's guilty."
Draco's body stilled. "What?"
She grabbed a fistful of blanket and began to wring it with her fingers. "I wasn't faithful either."
He felt his heart plummet into his stomach. No, he thought. No. Not his pure, innocent Hermione.
"Wesley was there," she said, and his teeth clenched together.
"Wesley? As in your boyfriend before me Wesley? Wesley Thornton? The one you broke up with because he was moving to America?"
"Yes," she answered ruefully. "We ran into each other one day, and he took me out for dinner, and then we went for a walk around the park by my hotel."
"Sounds romantic," Draco said bitterly, standing up and beginning to pace the room.
"Draco…I was lonely, just like you were. I hadn't been able to reach you for over a week, I was upset, and it was nice to spend some time with someone I knew. When he kissed me…I just couldn't find it in me to stop."
"I see." He tried to keep his anger at bay, his fists curled tightly at his sides. "Did you sleep with him?"
"No."
He let out a breath of relief, but it only lasted as long as it took for her to get out the next part.
"But …but he kissed me in other places besides my mouth."
"Where?" He dared to ask, his tone sharp. Hermione winced.
"Everywhere he could with my dress still technically on."
Draco's blood began to boil at the image of her being touched by another man. He had taken pride in the fact that he had been the only one to have her, to be the one she had given herself to in every way. Now there was someone else who could say they had felt the body of Hermione Granger.
He knew he had no room to be upset though. He had had plenty before her, and he had just added one more.
"I don't know why I did it. All I know is that I felt terrible afterwards, and I threw up I was so ashamed of myself," she cried. "I scrubbed myself raw trying to get the feeling of him off of me."
They were both quiet as they let everything that had been laid out sink in, neither of them looking at the other.
"What do we do now?" she asked, meeting his eyes for the first time.
What do we do? He thought. They had both clearly messed up, but they both regretted it just as much as the other. Would they just let this be the end?
"I still love you Draco. Despite everything," she spoke. It was barely audible, but he heard it.
"I love you, too."
"I forgive you."
"I forgive you, too," he sighed.
"So what do we do?" she asked again.
"We move forward."
"Together?"
"Together."