She stood waiting with the others. Wives, girlfriends, husbands, boyfriends; they were all here, waiting for someone. She was nervous, maybe more nervous than those around her, and playing unconsciously with a loose thread on her grey, woolen sweater. She looked over at Lavender Brown, who was standing a few meters away from her, and smiled warmly, albeit cynically at the other girl's toothy grin.
"Lucky girl," she thought, "it must be nice to know that your man is definitely on the other end of the portkey."
She didn't have that luxury. His newly appointed, high ranking position within The Order meant that his location was of the utmost secrecy at all times. Even when, or rather if, he was being sent home.
This had become her new ritual a few months after he left. Whenever a new deployment was being sent home, she was at the portkey drop waiting. She had been to nearly every drop since he had left three years ago. Today marked her tenth drop, her tenth agonizing day spent watching The Order's soldiers reunite with their loved ones.
"I am such a martyr," she thought sadly, "why would anybody willingly put themselves through this?"
After every drop she would walk away in devastated disappointment, unable to handle the happy tears and laughter of the overwhelmed couples when she realised that today wouldn't be the day he returned. But, when the next drop was announced she would be there, ready to suffer all over again.
She had barely heard a word from him since he had left. It wasn't his fault. Owls were too easily traced and it was a risk that they had agreed he would not take before his deployment. The one letter she had received came six months ago through the muggle post.
I miss you.
With my everything.
D
She thought it a cruel hoax when she had plucked the letter from the mailbox of her parents' house, but there was no mistaking his perfect swirl of calligraphy. She had teased him about his fancy scrawl at first, uncomfortable with how proper and refined his upbringing had been compared to her own. In the early days, when the war had seemed simply like a faraway nightmare, they had dated. He had taken her to fancy restaurants and she had laughed when he had had to explain what cutlery was to be used with each course.
His letter now sat in the pocket of her jeans. Folded carefully despite its many creases formed during the numerous times she had taken it out to read it over. As she waited she took it out again, running her fingers gently across the folds.
She sighed as wondered how he had managed to send the letter to her at all. If owls were easy to trace, the muggle post was a cinch to crack. She figured that he must have apparated to a town far away from where he was stationed in order to avoid a stamp trail. The letter was sent to her parents' and cleverly disguised as a library overdue notice to all but her.
Sweeping her eyes over the letters one last time, she folded the note back up, closed her eyes and slipped it back into her pocket. With a sigh, she opened her eyes once more and folded her arms over her chest. She had hoped that when the day finally arrived that he would come home she would somehow feel it. Like, one day she would just wake up with this overwhelming sense of wholeness once more and just know that today was the day. But she hadn't felt that yet, and she was really beginning to doubt whether the day would ever come at all.
She wondered if they would even tell her if he had been killed in action of whether she was just expected to forget that he ever existed. She supposed she wouldn't be at the top of their list of people to inform. She wasn't his next of kin, why would she have been? Nobody was truly aware of their relationship, she had wanted it to be that way. As far as anybody could tell she was his colleague and nothing more.
She was interrupted from her thoughts by Angelina Johnson squeezing her shoulder gently. Oh, she had forgotten that the Weasleys would be celebrating the return of George today. She felt a surge of guilt rise in her stomach for forgetting about her friends, her family. When had she become so self-absorbed?
"You alright, Hermione?" Angelina asked kindly.
Hermione nodded and faked a smile, "But what about you? George is finally coming home."
Hermione noticed the flicker of concern flash across Angelina's eyes at the lack of enthusiasm in her sentiment. Angelina was kind enough not to say anything though and instead sighed breathlessly and smiled. "It feels like I'm an outsider, looking down on this scene you know? And I can see this girl just so desperately in love with this guy, and thinking, how lucky can one person be?" Angelina gushed, her eyes shining, "To feel that much love for one person. But then I zoom back into reality and it's me. I feel that for a person. For George."
Hermione smiled at her and looked away. She knew the feeling. Every time she saw him, she felt this unrelenting surge of happiness. It filled her up and just made her feel... Alive.
"He's coming home, Hermione. I just. I can't believe it. After almost two years he's finally coming home." Angelina cried.
Oh God! Hermione plead internally, turning away from Angelina, unable to cope with her outcry of happiness. She was sure she couldn't take this anymore. This was it, this is what it felt like to finally fall completely and irrecoverably apart. Excusing herself from Angelina and her friends she made her way over to an empty bench and flopped down. Leaning her head against the wall behind her she closed her eyes and for the first time let the tears fall freely.
"You are such and arse, Draco Malfoy!" Hermione yelled, slapping him across the chest with the high heels she carried loosely in one hand before stomping down the deserted muggle street.
He laughed, rubbing the spot on his chest where her shoes had connected with him, before walking after her, keeping a few paces behind. "Granger, get off of your high horse and come back." he asked her, undoing the bow-tie around his neck and letting it fall open.
With a growl that made Draco chuckle again, Hermione swung around and put her hands on her hips. "How dare you spring that on me! No warning at all just, I love you! In a room where anyone could have heard you." she shook her head as though thoroughly confused before speaking a little more softly, "You just say, I love you. Like it's the most simple thing in the world. I thought we were keeping this," she motioned a hand between the two of them, "a secret! And honestly," she scoffed, "what do you mean you love me? You hate me."
By now Draco had reached the infuriated witch and had pulled the heels from hand and dropped them to the ground. They had hurt when she had whacked him earlier and he wanted to eliminate the risk of it happening again. She let him take her hand in his and watched as he laced his fingers with hers. She continued to look at the ground when he was done though, unable to look up into the depths of his grey eyes, afraid of what she might see.
"I don't hate you." He said simply, threading his free hand into the hair at the base of her skull "I love you. You stubborn, know-it-all, Gryffindor. Without reason, I. Love. You." he whispered brushing her temple with his lips.
Shuddering from his touch, Hermione finally looked up and drew a sharp breath. The intensity with which he was looking at her literally made her heart stop. Her eyes flickered across his face, trying to find any trace of insincerity but her search came out empty.
Pulling her in close he disapparated them back to The Order's safe house. With a crack they landed in the backyard, the only place within the wards that apparition was allowed.
"Why did you tell me?" Hermione asked.
Draco looked shocked for a moment, his eyes opening a little wider before he sighed. "I'm being deployed."
"What?" Hermione exclaimed, pulling her hand away from his and taking a step back, "What do you mean you're getting fucking deployed?"
If this had been any other discussion Draco would have laughed, he was always highly amused when she swore. It was such a rarity. But this was not a situation he dared to laugh in. Draco ran his fingers through his blonde hair, messing up the slicked back style into a shaggy mess that he much preferred these days. "Kingsley is sending a team to the front line to assist the French in two days. They're losing their hold on the containment and His army is pushing through."
"So?" Hermione asked unable to see what this had to do with him. "Why do the French need you?" he looked at her pointedly and her heart sank. They needed a spy. They needed somebody who could be trusted to act as a double agent. "No." she said with finality, "Absolutely not."
"I don't have a choice, Granger." he said taking a step towards her. "I didn't jump ship to sit around and do nothing. I cannot sit here and watch everyone else fight and die. Besides, I am the only one that can do this."
"But that was before me!" she cried back, "Why the fuck would you tell me you fucking love me, Draco, only to tell me that you are leaving and what, you might not even come back?"
"You know that I am the most selfish person getting around. Self-preservation and my happiness are my priorities. Merlin, you tell me that every fucking chance you get." he shook his head before continuing, "I couldn't leave without knowing, I had to know that you felt this too, because if you did, then it would give me something worth fighting for. I've never had something to fight for before, especially not when I was on His side. I had nothing to lose then. But now," Draco was standing so close to Hermione that she could feel his warm breath tickle her cheek. He smelt like fire whiskey and after dinner mints, "Now I have everything to lose."
As a stray tear managed to free itself from Hermione's closed eyes, Draco used his thumb to wipe it away letting it brush across her bottom lip before gripping her chin gently to tip her head back. "Tell me that you love me too." he said kissing the corner of her mouth. He repeated his instruction, kissing the other corner. With a slow brush of her lips with his own he pulled her body flush with his. "Tell me that..."
"I love you." she breathed before her eyes fluttered open, "I love you, Draco Malfoy."
Hermione was suddenly brought out of her memory by a resounding gasp that reverberated around the abandoned school gymnasium in which they waited. She looked across the court and blinked against the bright, white glow of the incoming portkey. Those around her chattered nervously and she looked over at Angelina and then at Lavender. Both were standing completely motionless, their eyes focused on the light. Lavender's hands were curled into tight fists at her side while Angelina attempted to flatten down her unruly mop of dark hair.
With a loud pop and a cheer from the crowd a group of twelve men came striding down from the sky, an old, large cooking pot clanging to the ground behind them. As the light extinguished itself and the men reached the ground the crowd surged around them. Hermione smiled sadly as she saw Angelina leap into George's open arms. Geroge was grinning widely, his arms wound tightly around his wife's waist lifting her off the ground. Lavender and Seamus were wrapped in a warm embrace, his kit tossed to the ground. Tears were streaming down Lavenders face and Hermione could hear her sobbing loudly. Seamus' leg was bound in a splint and a large bandage wrapped around his head, though he didn't seem to notice his injuries as he plastered kisses all over Lavender's tear-stained cheeks.
George looked over at Hermione suddenly and waved happily. Hermione half heartedly waved back and tilted her head in confusion as George sent her a wink before bending down to collect his kit and making his way towards the exit with the others. Pushing herself off of the bench, Hermione wrapped her arms around herself as though that was all that she could do to keep herself together and followed suit.
Suddenly a loud crack sounded throughout the gym and Hermione froze, her heart stopping. She felt him. His presence. It had been so long since she had felt that tug but there was no question, it was him. "It isn't possible!" she thought before turning around slowly. She had once seen a muggle documentary on sloths where a sloth in slow motion had moved faster that she currently was. She just couldn't bare the thought of turning around to see the gym empty.
When she was finally facing the direction the sound of apparition had come from, her eyes grew wide and she brought a shaking hand up to cover her gaping mouth. He was home. She let out a loud sob and closed her eyes before opening them again quickly. If it was a dream she would open them and he wouldn't be there, it would just be some cruel trick. But when her eyes refocused through the tears it became clear that it wasn't a dream.
He stood in front of her in black, combat gear a muggle gun strapped to his thigh beside his wand. He had black boots laced halfway up his calves and his gear bag slung over his right shoulder. His hair was longer than she had ever remembered seeing it and it fell messily into his eyes. She gasped as she took in the scar that ripped a jagged line down his cheek, stopping or perhaps disappearing into his wool-knit jumper. His features were hard but his eyes were wide with shock.
Dropping his bag off his shoulder he quickly closed the gap between them extending his arms to her. Hermione leaped into them, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms firmly around his neck. Letting out an embarrassingly loud sob, she cried into the crook of his neck, "Oh God. I..."
He shushed her and smoothed his hand down the back of her head leaning his head up to kiss her forehead. After what felt like a lifetime and with a shuddering breath to try and calm herself, Hermione let her legs fall down while keeping a firm hold around Draco's neck.
"I thought that this was it." she admitted sadly, her eyes focused directly on his. "I convinced myself that if you weren't on this drop then you were gone. That something had happened to you and that all I would have left was this memory of you." she gushed, embarrassed that she was rambling. She used the back of her hand wipe her face, now stained with tears.
Brushing away the hair matted to her face, Draco bent his head down to rest his forehead against hers, "I told you before I left. I am a selfish creature and nothing was going to stop me from getting back to you. Nothing."
When he kissed her, Hermione gasped at its intensity as he pushed three years worth of missed contact into one searing moment of finality. When he pulled away she whimpered at the loss of contact. Draco chuckled and untangled her hands from around his neck before lacing his fingers through hers. "I love you." he whispered. A small smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.
Hermione hadn't realised how much she had missed that smirk until that moment and she grinned, tears still leaving tracks down her cheeks. "I love you too." She replied, "Always."
A/N: Hi there! Hope you enjoyed this one shot. It's my first fic and I'm just testing the waters, really. I have a thousand and one ideas floating around my head for Draco and Hermione related fics and I am hoping to perhaps continue this particular idea with a prequel of sorts. We shall see how it goes, hopefully I don't lose the sudden burst of inspiration I had when I decided to write this! Until next time. x.