Hermione hated the Visitor's Whistle almost as much as she hated waiting for insufferable, blonde gits who demanded she not be the late one. While she knew there was no sense in getting upset, the anxious wringing of her hands gave her something to do besides sip her glass of firewhiskey and try to not look around the tavern too much.
A full twenty-five minutes after eight, Draco slid into the seat across from her without so much as a word. Resisting the initial urge to nag him for being late, Hermione stared and waited for Draco to be the first to break the silence.
He looked good. She wouldn't admit it to his face, but in the month or so that had passed without her seeing him, he had changed. His hair was longer, now requiring frequent head motions to rid it from his eyes, which was what he was constantly doing now instead of speaking to Hermione. The tension was growing and it took until a waitress wondered over before Draco muttered anything. "Your oldest bottle of white elfin wine and two glasses."
"I'm not staying." Hermione said once the woman walked away, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
Draco smirked. "Who said the second glass is for you?"
"Can we just get this over with?" Hermione uncrossed her arms with sharp motions and started rummaging through her bag, suddenly finding it more difficult to locate the single file in the dark bag. "I brought the updated information your department requested as well as the original case file with some notes added from the original team." The dark emphasis on the word 'original' was not lost on Draco, but he was spared a response by the waitress returning with his wine. He always seemed to illicit the speediest of customer service- something that Hermione never failed to notice.
It seemed as though there was still a grudge being held against Draco for dismantling the original Auror team on this case. He quickly thought back to the day in which he told Hermione she was being reassigned and absentmindedly rubbed his hand against the back of his neck where a paperweight had hit him. "I assume it's the length of a novel?"
Hermione stopped digging just long enough to glare before silently reminding herself to not curse the ferret. "Well I'm assuming there's something else you needed from me." She said, finally fishing out the folder that was rather large and slamming it down on the table, causing her empty wine glass to wobble. "Considering I could have had a junior Auror deliver these to you at any time." She added to Draco's raised eyebrows.
Draco shrugged. "I don't trust them."
"Another coincidence. I don't trust you. Enjoy the files. Good luck finishing the case." In the heat of the moment Hermione could feel her heart beating in her ears. The loudness of her hate-induced adrenaline rush almost made her miss the one thing she knew Draco had planned on saying since she hit him with her favorite charmed paperweight.
"Stay."
Her heart rate didn't slow, but she did drop the strap of her bag and reached to pour herself a glass of the incredibly expensive wine in front of her. "I'll stay if you'll explain yourself."
Draco's face remained stony, but he intercepted her reach for the bottle and her empty glass, taking it upon himself to pour it for her as he nodded. "This doesn't mean you've won. Don't think we're okay just because I'm here."
"I wouldn't dream of it." He slowly handed her the glass and risked a small smile. "The new team is progressing, although they are infinitely more incompetent than you and your trained monkeys."
Hermione smiled, knowing that he damn well knew how to feed her pride. "Those trained monkeys have made more strides in their new endeavors than your trained dogs, it appears."
Oh that cheek. There were very few people in this world that would dare give Draco Malfoy sass and get away with it, but this bint not only dished out the sarcasm and cutting remarks, but kept Draco daydreaming about new comments in order to keep up with her. "I didn't come here to talk about Ministry things, you know that."
She emptied her glass. "No, you came here for slightly updated files and to see me." When Draco didn't respond she knew she had him flustered. "You could have seen me every day at work if I were still on the case."
"I'm not discussing this with you. Not right now. Not without more wine." Draco ceremoniously tipped his emptying glass towards her before finishing it.
"Then why did you come here? You knew I would want to talk about it, you kn-"
"If you wanted to talk you would have responded to my owls or my Floo calls." Hermione's mouth snapped closed. He was the only person who could get her to stop once she started on a rant, and it was a trait she both hated and loved about him. "Better yet, you wouldn't have scampered off to the Hovel with the Weasleys when I offered you my flat."
An angry red color started to creep up onto Hermione's cheek. "Burrow, Malfoy, for the millionth time. And it's the single safest spot in Britain, you know that."
"Yes, well, it served its purpose. You were able to hide away from the world and blame me for our lack of conversation even though what you claim to have wanted more than anything was to yell at me and demand answers from me." Draco took a slow sip. "The sooner you admit that you overreacted and were too stubborn to talk to me, the sooner we can move on."
Never had words hit the nail so directly on the head. Instead of hexing him like every fiber of her being was telling her to do, Hermione sat there and stared at Draco's wine glass. "I reacted on instinct. I was mad, so I stayed with the Weasleys. You had said everything that needed to be said so I had no need to talk to you."
"Well I'm sure the self-loathing and pitying helped you, too." Cold, gray eyes met hers when she followed the wine glass up to his lips.
How could he possibly know how she felt these past couple of weeks? Although she was sure he was just taunting her, the realization that he was right was still disconcerting. She let him think about the harsh words he just said, hoping he would break the silence and change the subject, or, better yet, apologize. When he didn't, she tried. "Gin's pregnant. With a boy."
"Unless they're naming it after me or sacrificing it in my honor, I see no reason for you to tell me."
The two sat in silence while Hermione tried to remind herself not to curse him yet again. "Are you offering the name of "Ferret"?"
Draco sighed and leaned as far forward in his seat as he could without leaving his chair. His voice was so quiet that Hermione knew she would have to listen extremely carefully or risk losing precious syllables. "I've missed you. And your cheek. But this is starting to infuriate me." He carefully leaned back to his original position and watched as the reaction of his words played across Hermione's face.
Instead of seeing shock or anger, he instead saw a small smile start to form in the corner of her mouth. "You're still the same teenage boy I punched all those years ago. Doesn't matter if I'm upset or angry, but once I hurt your precious ego, you resort to veiled threats." She quickly raised the glass to her lips and took another sip before continuing. "You think this is fun for me? After every single thing we've been through? I tried to write you off after you left, but Gin convinced me to meet you here tonight."
"Give Red my thanks." His lips barely moved as he spoke.
"Tell her yourself. I'm finished here." She slammed her glass down on the table to emphasize her last word and in a huff, grabbed her bag and stood.
Before she could take more than a step away, Draco lightly grabbed her arm. "I'm trying to keep loving you through this."
Hermione pulled her arm away with a laugh. "You think you're loving, but you don't love me. I want to be free." The raw pain on her face made Draco let her continue to walk out of the pub while he stood in a stunned stillness.
When he caught up to her around the corner, meters away from the apparition point, he called out to her. "You were always free." She continued walking next to the taller man in silence. Draco didn't need to see her face to know she was crying. Once they reached the end of the alley that designated the safe zone, Hermione turned to him and lightly touched his arm.
Draco froze at the light contact, and allowed himself to openly gape at her completely dry face. "Draco, after everything we've said, done, conquered, and, I don't know, laughed at, can you be honest with me for a moment?" When he nodded she smiled softly and continued. "I loved you, bollocks I may still love you- I haven't the faintest…." She shook her head as if to clear the cobwebs and smiled again. Draco all of a sudden grew very sad. His Hermione always had cobwebs in her head when she was passionate about something. He usually took those chances to poke fun at her adoration of house elves, or her desperate need for organized office supplies, but this was nothing like he had ever seen before.
"I want to be happy, Draco. Sometimes I think that happiness could involve you, and then sometimes I feel like you're what's keeping me from the happiness, does that make sense?" She didn't wait for him to even acknowledge her question. "Well I suppose if anyone would understand it would be you, that's one of the problems. The fact is I don't want to be the only one working at an 'us'. And I know things at the Ministry are complicated and not helping our matters at all, but we've grown up with overlaying issues our entire lives, so that shouldn't be one of our problems. " The usual look she got when thinking out loud started to take over and Draco interrupted.
"Can't we finish this conversation somewhere else? Maybe have a long and proper talk?"
Again, her soft and sad smile hit Draco right in the heart. "Draco, we both know it'd turn into a shouting match. We need time. I'm asking if you'll consider giving us time."
Never had he realized how beautiful she was. Her face was a mess of angles, one-second looking elfish and young, the next boisterous and ready to hex. He wanted nothing more than to grab her shoulders and snog her like he had never known another witch in his lifetime, but the nagging voice in the back of his mind (was it still her voice?) was reminding him that she made a very valid argument.
"I don't want to give us time." He said quietly.
She smiled sadly, only one corner of her mouth twitching upward. "I knew that coming here tonight. I knew you would be proud. And poetic." She grabbed her own elbows instinctively. "Please?" She added after a few silent seconds.
Draco continued to fight the urge to kiss her. Not just kiss her, but to hold the back of her head with one hand while the other held her by her tiny waist and made her forget her own name and this meaningless argument. "I don't like it. But I can give you time."
He imagined his face as stony and impassive as a statue, but Hermione knew him well enough to see a flicker of something in his eyes. Defeat? Sadness? Challenge?
"What if I need more time than you'd like?" She risked asking.
He snorted in response, and she had to fight the urge to make a comment about pureblood mannerisms. "This is already more time than I'd like." He looked at his fingernails as if bored. "I imagine you like that about our predicament."
Hermione smiled another one of her sad smiles, only half of her mouth acknowledging that she may in fact be happy with the moment. "We both have a lot of growing up to do, I suppose."
For a long second Draco was silent, staring at her face and wondering what was going on in her brilliant mind. He took a tentative step forward and placed his hands on her shoulders gently. "We're both too stubborn to admit we could have something special." He placed a soft kiss on her forehead, and they both closed their eyes, though neither could see. "When you're ready to give in, I hope I'm there for you." He raised his head so the two could get a good look at one another.
Hermione knew, deep down, that this was goodbye. She couldn't bring herself to admit that she had failed; it went against every fiber of her being. But when Draco moved a hand from her shoulder to her face and slowly swiped his thumb against her cheekbone, she knew she was a failure. She managed what she thought was a brave smile and whispered a throaty "thank you", hoping to contain the tears until he left. They both hated crying- one of the many things that bonded them over the difficult times in their past.
It wasn't until he watched Hermione turn the corner on her sensible heels did he realize that he just let the one good thing he had going for him walk away. He didn't know whom he was angrier with, himself or the stubborn brunette who made him reconsider all of his being.