Can you feel my heart beating?
The wind pushed Hermione's hair out of her face as she walked down the street. Street vendors smiled at her as she passed, lifting their merchandise for her to see. Hermione merely smiled back at them, continuing on her walk. She had a destination in mind: a secluded café she had found during her stay in the city. It was private and quaint, something Hermione enjoyed. She often found herself slinking off to quiet places after the war. She suspected it was because of the years of drama and everything else that came hand in hand with being best friends with Harry Potter. However, Hermione didn't mind; she just valued moments of peace more than she used to. Maybe that's why she had escaped to New York City in Muggle America. Hermione had space to breathe. When she had suggested the trip to her friends, they had let her go. They probably felt the same way too, Hermione realized. After being trapped for so long, it became too suffocating.
Speaking of her friends, everything was going well. After the war, she had gotten a job at St. Mungo's as a healer. Harry now held the placement of Head Auror, and Ron was in the same business. Ron, Hermione sighed. Figuring that the kiss they had shared was just a spur of the moment thing, they decided to part ways as friends. She was relieved that their relationship was spared. Harry was now engaged to Ginny, just as everyone had expected, and based on the Daily Prophet and their knack for collecting gossip, Ron was seeing Lavender Brown. The fact that Hermione was not at all jealous told her that she had made the right choice in leaving Ron.
But, Hermione constantly found herself surrounded by happy couples. It was a little depressing, she found, and made her feel more than a little lonely.
Shaking off these thoughts, she was in New York City after all, Hermione happily walked down the street. She arrived at the doorstep of the little café, and with a sigh, Hermione pulled open the old worn pink door. It open and closed with a ring, signaling her arrival; she ran a hand through her wind-blown hair, trying to make it the least bit acceptable. It had tamed over the years, but not by much. It still had a mind of its own. She had grown a few inches, her body was now lean and graceful, or so she had been told. Ginny had attacked her after the war with a mascara wand and a lip gloss brush. Her light makeup now highlighted her natural beauty, not over the top like a certain Lavender Brown, Hermione chuckled to herself.
Her feet padded across the blue and white checkered tile lightly. Hermione settled herself into the booth in the corner near the window. She slid in, the old red leather squeaking underneath her. She set down her purse and shook off her coat, letting it pool on the booth seat beside her. She felt someone appear beside her, probably the waitress. The war had left Hermione with senses sharper than a blade. She was constantly surveying her surroundings and monitoring everything. It must have been the result of being on the run with Harry and Ron from Snatchers during her seventh year.
"Cappuccino, please," Hermione said, and as the waitress nodded and walked away, Hermione had a sudden flash back of the time after Bill and Fleur's wedding while they were in the coffee shop hiding. She had said similar things to the waitress then too, she thought aimlessly.
Hermione let her gaze and mind wander towards the window. It was the transition between summer and autumn. The air was not cold but no longer held the comfort the sun had given during the summer. She needed a light jacket or sweater whenever she stepped outside. The switching of seasons wasn't as kind in England, Hermione had found during her stay. She had been in New York for a week already, and was staying for another two.
A pair of bikers in red and yellow spandex pedaled under the window on the sidewalk. Hermione smiled to herself. She loved Muggle culture, despite her being a witch. She still had a Muggle upbringing, and old habits die hard. She laughed softly as the memory of her showing Ron how to use a microwave for the first time. He had been amazed that he could have warm, gooey brownies on demand. Mrs. Weasley had ranted for days about Ron getting fatter than he already was, and had forbidden Mr. Weasley from going near the Muggle technology. This was no use, though, as Mr. Weasley was just as fascinated as Ron, as was the rest of the red headed clan, as they watched the brownie go around and around in the microwave.
The ring of the bell brought Hermione out of her trance. Her eyes flew towards the pink door in time to see it swing closed and a man step through. He too ran a hand through his platinum blonde hair, pushing it out of his stormy grey eyes. He was tall, his face was pale, but not in a creepy transparent ghost way, Hermione noted. Instead, it was flawless and smooth. He was rather pleasurable to look at, Hermione gladly allowed her eyes to rake his figure. Hermione then realized that her entire train of thoughts towards the man had taken place in about 2 seconds. The man had yet to take a step forward from his entrance from the door. She blinked, clearing her thoughts.
She watched as the man lifted his face from the floor and scanned the room. The café was empty except for Hermione and three old women gathered in the furthest booth in the little shop talking amongst themselves. His gorgeous eyes landed on Hermione's just as she turned her face towards him. Her mouth dropped open in shock with a soft 'pop'.
She was staring back into the face of Draco Malfoy.
Damn it! Hermione scolded herself. How had she not noticed him as she was staring out the window? Her sensory skills weren't nearly as good as they once were, she realized. Malfoy blinked then composed himself with his famous passive expression. Hermione's heart filled with dread as he glided towards her. First, this was Draco friggin' Malfoy in Muggle America, New York City of all places! Second, she hated him, despite the fact that he had been forced to take the Dark Mark and bow in front of Voldomort for the fear of his parent's lives. Third, and this was by far the most alarming, she had actually thought that he was attractive! Hermione's mind raced and Malfoy stopped in front of her.
He smirked, waving his hand towards the seat opposite her. "May I?" he asked. Not waiting for an answer, not that Hermione was capable of making a sound at the moment, he slide in gracefully across from her. Hermione now had his aristocratic face in full view, and she couldn't deny that he was attractive, sexy even. She now saw what all of the women in England, including the Daily Prophet, went on about.
"Malfoy, what are you doing here?" It came out more accusing than she had meant, and Hermione winced. Malfoy laughed. Hermione was shocked. He had actually genuinely laughed. It was a nice sound, a small voice said in the back of her head. It lit up his face and Hermione was nearly blinded by his white teeth.
"Why, I'm enjoying a cup of coffee, Granger, as if that's not obvious or evident enough," Malfoy told her. Hermione wanted to slap him already. She had come to New York to escape everything, not be followed by more problems.
"I mean what are you doing here, Malfoy," Hermione lowered her voice as not to be overheard by anyone. "In a Muggle café in New York City?" she pressed, barely keeping her voice from creeping into a hiss.
Malfoy shrugged carelessly. "I needed to breathe. Things back in England are…well, difficult right now," he said honestly, and Hermione got another shock. Then she was angry.
"Difficult? For you?" Hermione knew she was being unfair. Malfoy and his family had suffered through at a lot since after the war. Surprisingly to Hermione though, society had accepted Malfoy and his mother back not long after the war. Lucius had been thrown in Azkaban, but Harry had spared Narcissa and Malfoy from the same fate.
"I think I have the right to fairly say that, yes," Malfoy's brow furrowed.
"I lost so much more than you!" Hermione restrained herself from raising her voice too much.
"Do you know that for a fact?" Malfoy's eyes narrowed. Hermione laughed dryly.
"Of course I did! I lost friends and people that I care about! My family, my parents, Malfoy, are in Australia and have no idea or recognition of having a daughter!" Hermione said. Malfoy opened his mouth to say something, but she was on a roll. "And you obviously have no idea what it is like to lose your parents. I mean, at least your father is alive, though he is rotting in Azkaban and I hear your mother's gone around the bend!" she snapped before she could stop herself. She clapped a hand over her mouth. How was she any better than Malfoy if she went around saying things like that? Malfoy had gone strangely quiet suddenly, and Hermione's heart clenched with dread as she realized why.
"My father died in Azkaban more than a year ago, Granger, and my mother committed suicide after she heard. She told me she couldn't stand to look at my face anymore because I looked too much like him, and how I reminded her of the love she lost. Better to leave behind her son and go join her husband in hell," Malfoy said coldly. "I recommend you watch your mouth. You always have let that big mouth of yours get ahead of yourself," he spat. Hermione felt as if her stomach had ingested something foul.
"You're mother killed herself so she didn't have to look at you anymore?" she asked softly, staring into his eyes, which were conflicting with emotions.
"I was always a disappointment to the Malfoy and Black name, Granger, I wouldn't put it past her," he said carelessly. Hermione's eyes were brimming with tears.
"That's terrible…I didn't know…I'm so sorry," she was almost in tears now. It was only seconds before they were threatening to spill down her cheeks. Malfoy's face softened.
"Hey, it's okay. I'm over it," Malfoy said softly, moving his hand so that it was over hers on top of the table. Hermione barely kept herself from jumping at the sudden contact. His hand covered hers, and it wasn't at all what she would have expected. She imagined Draco's hand to be cold and clammy, not at all the warm and soothing comfort his skin had on hers. Not to mention the tingles that raced through her fingertips. Hermione started at a thought: no, she did not imagine that his hand was cold. She didn't fantasize anything about Malfoy. And since when did she call him Draco?
Hermione had never seen this side of Draco Malfoy. She had seen the cold, taunting, sneering boy at Hogwarts, and the fear stricken one at the Manor, but never a comforting, kind Malfoy. It was unheard of.
Getting her breathing under control, Hermione gazed into his eyes, which held something she couldn't quite put her finger on. This bothered her. She always liked knowing the answers.
Hermione thoughts were interrupted by the three old women from the over side of the café approaching them. One in a blue knit sweater that looked too thick to wear in this weather spoke up first.
"I just wanted to say that you too are adorable together. You're like soul mates," she sighed. "I'm so glad you two found happiness," she smiled kindly. Hermione and Malfoy exchanged looks, mirroring surprise, disgust, and on Draco's part, amusement.
"Oh! We're not-" Hermione and Malfoy began at the same time, but the lady heard none of it. Instead, she had turned to her companions.
"Ah, young love…so fragile and sweet," another reminisced. The other nodded vigorously.
"You two are perfect together, just look at them!" the third said, much to both of Hermione's and Malfoy's confusion. However, before they could say a word, the three old women had hobbled out of the café, talking about love and other mushy things from their youth. Hermione turned to Malfoy.
"What-" she began, then glanced down at their still clasped hands. That would explain it, she thought to herself. She blushed brightly. She quickly retracted her hand from his, putting it under the table in her lap. Malfoy blinked at first, evidently confused, then came to the same realization as her. Probably didn't want to have Mudblood germs all over his flawless hand, Hermione thought bitterly. But if that was the case, then why was he blushing?
They sat in silence for a few seconds, in which Hermione was extremely uncomfortable and Malfoy was holding back a smile. Hermione sighed awkwardly. "Look, I didn't engage in this conversation to argue with you. We are both grown ups now, Malfoy, for Merlin's sake!"
Malfoy nodded in agreement, clearing his throat. "So anyways, what are you doing here Granger? So far from home and all, especially from Potter and Weasley. I'm surprised they let you go. How's that going, by the way?" Malfoy asked somewhat civilly, inquiring about her and Ron's relationship.
"Oh!" Hermione said, flustered. "I, uh, me and Ron decided to just be friends after the war," she almost blushed again at this, but focused herself on Malfoy's face instead.
"Oh, really?" he asked, mildly surprised. His tone was casual and his face was averted from hers towards the window, but Hermione could have sworn that she saw his eyes sparkle and a faint smile dance across his lips for a brief second. Confused, Hermione decided to ignore it.
"Yeah, but everything is alright. What about you? Have a new girl? The Daily Prophet seems pretty on top of things," Hermione said casually, sitting back in her chair. Malfoy shrugged.
"Quite honestly, I'm avoiding women at the moment. Especially the creepy ones like Pansy Parkinson and Astoria Greengrass," he shuddered, and Hermione laughed.
"Didn't you and Pansy have a thing during Hogwarts?" her eyebrows rose on her forehead. Malfoy shook his head quickly.
"Merlin no! She seemed to think that, but there is no way I would ever, and have ever, gone near that thing! Besides, she looks like something smushed her face together. She kind of resembles a pug," he added as an after-thought.
"I thought I was the only one who thought that!" Hermione said in amazement, half laughing. Malfoy grinned easily, but Hermione had become confused. Why had it bothered her when he said that he wasn't bothering with women at the moment? Why did she feel the familiar feeling of disappointment in her stomach? Shaking off her weird feelings, Hermione smiled. She found herself enjoying talking to Malfoy.
The waitress approached them then. Her pants were a little too tight and her neck line was plunging a little too low for Hermione's comfort. The waitress smacked her lips it a way she probably thought was seductive. Hermione was strangely glad to see that Malfoy barely threw the waitress a second glance.
"Can I get anything at all for you?" she leaned towards Malfoy, effectively pushing her cleavage close to his face. Malfoy's eyes didn't leave Hermione's face for one second, which she found undeniably sexy.
"Not at all," he said, sounding bored, but his eyes danced with amusement. The waitress pouted.
"Are you sure?" she stuck out her lower lip.
"Positive," Malfoy said dismissively, and with a glare and a huff in Hermione's direction, she stomped off. Hermione watched her go. "It's a common reaction," he shrugged in response. Hermione laughed.
"I can tell," she said, standing up. "Well, I best be on my way," she picked up her coat to slide it on but Malfoy beat her to it. Hermione stood confused as he put her jacket on her. It must have been proper etiquette, she realized. It was probably automatic now, not that she minded.
"Mind if I come with?" he asked smoothly, and Hermione inwardly grinned.
"Not at all," she imitated from earlier. Malfoy stuck her tongue out at her childishly.
"Don't put your tongue out unless you plan on using it," she said before she could stop herself then blushed deeply at what she had said. Instead of smirking like she thought he would, Malfoy laughed.
"Don't get ahead of yourself, Granger," he winked, striding over to the door and holding it open for her as she passed through. Hermione rolled her eyes as she stepped out onto the cobblestone street.
The wind had died down considerably. There was now only a slight breeze that brushed Hermione's curly hair over her shoulder. Walking beside Malfoy made her realize that she wasn't as tall as she thought she was. Her head only reached his neck and shoulders. His neck looked so kissable she just wanted to…
"So Granger, where to?" he interrupted her reverie. Hermione blinked a few times, shaking off previous thoughts of making out with Malfoy, and put on a sunny smile.
"Well, I don't really know yet," she admitted. Malfoy arched a perfect eyebrow.
"Oh?"
"Yes," Hermione shrugged.
"So you were just trying to get rid of me? I can leave if you'd like," Malfoy moved to walk away, but Hermione slipped her small hand around his wrist. He stopped dead in his tracks, turning back to her with a light smile playing at his lips. He really should smile more, it looks nice on him, Hermione thought.
"Don't go, please," she begged in a way that wasn't actually begging but wasn't not begging. Malfoy grinned.
"I was hoping you would say that," he stared into her eyes deeply, which was slightly unnerving but beautiful at the same time. Hermione's stomach did a little flutter against her will, but she ignored it.
She cleared her throat. "Anyways, there's a little bookstore not far from here…" she began, but stopped at Malfoy's laughter. "What?" she asked defensively.
"You're in a beautiful city, Granger, and you want to go to a bookstore? Merlin!" he laughed some more, much to Hermione's irritation.
"It was just a suggestion!" she frowned. "Anyways, there is also this old board walk I found behind my hotel. It's not much, but it has a stream that I think leads to the Hudson,"
Malfoy seemed to like this. "Sure," he said. Again, the duo began walking. The street vendors were still trying to sell their products. However, nothing caught her eye. She frowned.
"I promised that I would get Harry, Ron, and Ginny a souvenir," she pondered. Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "But everything here seems very…" she trailed off, and Malfoy picked up the sentence for her.
"Everything here is pointless shit that no one wants or cares about?" he asked, causing one of the vendors who was selling I heart NY mugs to growl at them. Hermione smiled apologetically at the man before turning back to Malfoy.
"Yeah, basically what I was going to say, just not as loudly," she punched his arm lightly. Malfoy shrugged.
"What's life without a little risk, Granger?" he asked, and Hermione stopped walking abruptly. She didn't know the answer to that, and it was a fair question. What was life without a little risk? Where would she be right now if she hadn't experienced all that she had? She shook her head to herself then glanced up at Malfoy, whose face held a mixture of worry and confusion.
"You okay? I didn't mean for that to be a big life imploring question, you know," he said carefully, watching her cautiously. Hermione smiled.
"I know, it just made me think about things," she said, and Malfoy looked a little relieved. He didn't want to deal with an emotional woman in a foreign country.
"Hmm," he pressed his lips together, before Hermione spotted a booth that was worth visiting.
"Look!" she exclaimed, dragging Malfoy over to the vendor. It was a flower vendor; the booth was full of bright flowers. The last flowers of summer were waiting to be bought, Hermione thought sadly. One flower in particular stuck out. It was a white carnation with a pink rim lining the delicate petals. She picked it up a twirled it in her fingers, lifting the fragile flower and bringing it to her nose.
"It's beautiful," she sighed, turning towards the vendor, who smiled. "How much?" she asked. The vendor gave the price, but before Hermione could take out her purse, Malfoy beat her to it. Hermione watched as he gave the money to the lady, who smiled at him before waving them farewell. Malfoy grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the stand, where Hermione turned to him, shocked.
"You paid for it," she said in awe. Malfoy laughed.
"Yes,"
"Why…I mean…thanks," Hermione gazed up at him. A trace of a smirk was on his face. "What?" she put her hand on her hip, the other holding the flower delicately.
"Whoever would have thought that Hermione Granger would be saying thanks to a Malfoy," Wow, that put things into perspective.
"People change," she said, locking eyes with him.
He took a step forward so that there was only a few inches in between them. "I know," he breathed, his warm breath fanning her face. He smelled like mint and chocolate. Malfoy was so close that she could have leaned her head forward and rested it on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. A light breeze made her hair brush in front of her face, and ever so slowly, Malfoy lifted his hand and tucked it behind her ear. Hermione felt herself tilting her face up towards his, her eyes drooping. When Malfoy leaned closer to her so that their faces were only centimeters apart, she abruptly pulled away, effectively putting a few feet between them.
Both were at a loss for words. Draco and Hermione seemed to realize that if Hermione hadn't pulled away, the two would have ended up doing something they thought they would regret. Hermione felt a pang of disappointment in the pit of her stomach.
Malfoy ran a hand through his hair, his eyes looking at his feet. Hermione pressed her lips together in a firm thin line. She breathed in and out, closing her eyes then opening them again to see Malfoy watching her uncertainly.
Hermione cleared her throat. Malfoy composed himself, his face shutting down quickly. Hermione felt her lips turn down a little at the corners. Is that what he did whenever he was feeling vulnerable? She couldn't imagine what it was like having to constantly have your guard up. She supposed it was the pureblood way.
Just as she was going to say something, anything to clear the silence, her stomach growled. A blush tinted her cheeks, and Malfoy laughed unexpectedly. "I, er, never got anything to eat. I guess I forgot," Hermione explained, embarrassed.
"Then let's not starve you. Come on, I know a place you might like," Malfoy said. A smile tugged at both of their mouths as Hermione followed Malfoy.
"This is amazing!" Hermione exclaimed excitedly. She watched the water glide smoothly past them from their spot at a little table. "How did you find this place?" she asked in wonder, turning to Malfoy. Malfoy shrugged.
"I was bored, so I went looking around," he said simply. Hermione shook her head, scanning her surroundings.
The water sparkled under the low moon, shimmering as it churned around the boat. Mal- no, Draco, had brought her to a restaurant on a boat. A series of little tables littered the deck. Other couples sat happily, eating and talking. She gazed in awe up at the sky. The stars seemed to be dancing. Little lanterns hung around the boat, serving as light, though it was dim. It was perfect, and very romantic.
Romantic? Did she just think that? No, this was nice, definitely not romantic. Sure, no other guy had ever taken her breath away as much as Draco. No man had ever gazed at her the way he did, or treated her so kindly. Sure, this was beautiful, but not romantic, Hermione assured herself.
She brought her eyes back down to Draco to see him watching her. Hermione allowed herself to get lost in his eyes. They held so many things that she couldn't count. They resembled the night sky. Dark with little flecks of blue and silver scattered across, like the stars.
"So," Hermione broke the comfortable silence. "Have any plans once you return to England?" she asked casually. She took a sip of her water, hoping she didn't sound to prying. Draco shrugged.
"I don't know. A bunch of Pureblood families are throwing their daughters at me. It's not exactly thrilling,"
"How so? I would imagine that any man would be in a state of euphoria having so many young beautiful women hanging off him," Hermione asked amused.
"None of them are the woman I want, or have wanted for a while," Draco said, his eyes dancing in the moonlight. His skin seemed to glow under the moon, making him look like an angel.
"So you plan on getting married?"
"Doesn't everybody?"
"Well, yes, I suppose. I just don't see why you wouldn't want to wed a beautiful Pureblood," she said, only a little bit of venom filtering into her voice.
"I don't want to marry a stranger, Hermione," Those words held so much more than first met the eye. Hermione's gaze softened.
"I see your point," she said kindly. Then she couldn't resist. "Not that anyone would want to marry you. Your about as romantic as Harry," Hermione teased. Instead of getting angry like she first thought, Draco raised an eyebrow.
"What makes you think I'm not romantic?" he asked quizzically. Hermione laughed lightly.
"Why would I think you are?"
Draco stood and came around the table, grabbing her hand. "You will soon," he said, leading her over to the dance floor. A slow song was playing, and many couples were slow dancing to the light tune. Draco rested his hands on her hips and began to dance with her. They rocked back and forth, and Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck by impulse. They were now extremely close. Hermione sighed and rested her head against his chest. She breathed in his scent, relishing in the comfort and safety she found while wrapped in his arms. Hermione listened to his heartbeat. Was it just her or was it going at a slightly faster pace than normal? It made her own heart flutter in appreciation. Was she the reason for his faster heartbeat.
Draco leaned down and put his mouth to her ear. Hermione got chills when he spoke softly. "So you don't find me romantic? How about now?"
Hermione pulled her head off his chest and grinned. "You're getting there," Her own heartbeat picked up.
The two continued to sway to the song. The lanterns glittered off the water, and the moon hung silver in the sky. No one had ever made the two feel like this. It was a feeling that neither Hermione nor Draco had experienced. Hermione sighed.
The song was coming to an end, but Hermione didn't want to leave Draco's arms. She gazed up at the amazing man in front of her, and something genuine stirred in her. She now truly believed that people could change. He made her laugh, he made her smile. He got on her nerves, he used his charm against her. He was an ex death eater, a Pureblood, and this was probably wrong. But he was the only person that had ever looked at her the way he did in the short time they had met that day. He made her heart flutter. And Hermione found herself falling.
Slowly, Draco leaned in. Hermione tilted her head up as he captured her lips with his. He kissed her impossibly softly. Her arms wound themselves tighter around his neck, running her fingers gently through his hair. He pulled her closer so that she was flush against him. Fireworks exploded in her mouth, and her heart danced.
This was so wrong. But it felt so right.
They eventually found that they had to pull back for the need of oxygen.
Thanks for reading!