Need You Now –
Hermione is a little drunk and a lot alone, she needs someone. A set of five drabbles, five different comforts, five different endings.
1. She dropped her eyes to the smashed photo frame, the occupants smiling happily at each other despite the dismal state of their 'home'. With trembling fingers, she sifted through the shards of glass, ignoring the little stabs of pain and pinpricks of blood. She snatched her phone from the wreckage and clutching it protectively to her chest for a moment before lifting it slowly to her ear. The soft click as her call was answered had her in tears, and the equally soft voice had her heart skipping a beat. "Hello?"
"Fred? It's Hermione."
"Hermione," she heard the happiness in his tone and instantly grew determined to stop fighting with him. "I was hoping you'd call."
2. The firewhiskey must be getting to her. Her feet aren't working properly. Neither are her eyes. Or her brain. Or her… no, no, her whatchamacallit, the one she talks with, it's working just fine. "I think about you sometimes," she slurs, swaying absently. A warm hand catches her elbow, the grip a little too tight to be friendly.
"What are you talking about Mudblood?" a voice sighs by her ear. There's no venom, no hate, just tiredness. A simple wish to not act rude or crude or stuck up. Maybe he thinks she won't remember.
"I think about how much you hate me, and how you pretend you didn't kiss me in third year, and I think about how pretty your eyes are, and…" she announces but it strikes her just how pathetic she sounds and she stops talking abruptly, her mouth closing with a snap. She's yanked to a stop suddenly by his non-moving-ness and she giggles. "Oh Malfoy, if only you knew how much I love-" and this time it's his lips, not her patheticness, that makes her shut up.
3. When she looks at her watch, she realizes just how stupid she's actually being. It is a quarter past one in the morning and she's sitting alone by the lake, shivering in her nightclothes. He wouldn't show because he wouldn't do this, not to Ginny. Before she knows it, she's waking up on the cold, hard ground, a cloak wrapped tightly around her shoulders, and she's looking up into his green eyes. "I thought you wouldn't come."
"Hermione," he smiles, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. "Of course I came, why wouldn't I?" She shook her head, snuggling into the arms of the boy who lived.
4. She downs the shot absently, ignoring the burn in the back of her throat, eyes locked on the door. He was supposed to be here, she glances at her watch, an hour ago. Typical, she thinks, dropping some money on the counter. Bloody typical. She walks to the podium and clears her throat, despising the woman's glance around her to find her date. "I have a reservation under Weasley, Ron Weasley," she says defiantly. "I will be dining alone," she says before the glorified waitress can open her mouth. The woman seems to understand and she leads Hermione to her seat without further questioning. You had your chance Ronald, she thinks, and you blew it.
5. It was the mutual staring that did it, those eyes, that cheeky smile when he realized that she was staring too, it all added up. She needed him. The door opened under her fist and she fell into the room, allowing his quidditch-toned arms break her fall. "Hermione, what's wrong? What happened?" He led her to a chair and forced her to sit, kneeling in front of her with her hands clasped between his. "Tell me who did this and I'll kill them."
She couldn't help it; laughter began to bubble mercilessly from her throat. "That would be hard," she giggled, moving to caress his face. Their relationship was like that, touches that should mean more but usually don't except this time she knew it was different. "Because there's something about you George Weasley, which some people find irresistibly charming, and very hard to kill."
His confusion lasted a mere moment before a smile broke across his face. "Granger, you have no idea how long I've waited for you."
"Really? I think about how much disinterest you show and come to you in tears and you're the one who was waiting for a move?" she giggled. He chuckled, fingers working their way into her hair, and lips working their way to hers.
"Really."
Well, that killed a good half-hour. I am happy with none except maybe number two. I had big plans for five but it sort of got away from me a little bit. Well, enjoy.