Author's note: Two good reviews within 24 hours of posting my first HP attempt…gave me confidence to write another less-tame story- it'll be 3 chapters. :o With my guilty pleasure pairing. xD
She needed a break. Things had rushed by, and right now, the last thing Hermione needed was a relationship. Comfort, friendship, and all were just fine. But a full-blown relationship this quickly after such a large-scale disaster, she could not do. So, she told Ron that she was leaving. She told him the flat-out truth, and figured she would quite regret it one day- the hurt in those blue eyes stung her heart like a thousand needles. But after a while… you know, eventually, she'd go back. She loved Ron. She did. Seven years as friends, of course she did. They had kissed… They'd had jealousy, they'd experienced so much.
Everything was so much, though, and she needed a break. Everyone was taking things differently, and Hermione was one who needed space and…so she was getting it by leaving. She wasn't running- certainly not. Not… permanently at least.
She had packed her things up. And she had left. She left the night she told Ron- but after everyone at the Burrow had fallen asleep. Or so she thought. As she was leaving, Mrs. Weasley stopped her. Anguish was on her face, but she told Hermione,
"I understand, dear. Just take care and check in occasionally- if not to Ronald, then to me." And then she hugged Hermione tightly. And Hermione smiled through tears, mumbled a thank you, and left.
She had found a place to stay, without leaving into the Muggle world, and she was letting everything settle. She had told no one where she was staying now, and didn't intend on it unless someone directly saw her or asked her. So far, Harry had tried to contact her, but after her explanation that she needed time, he stopped. She was sure Ginny played a part in that.
She was alone for about two months before she ventured out to get some air. It was nighttime, and she was walking alone. The night was chilly, and she wore a thin shawl over a simple blouse and jeans. Her hair was pulled into a braid down her back. Her place was one of a few in a small village-type setting in a forest. It wasn't overly far from Hogwarts, but it wasn't Godric's Hollow (though it wasn't too far from that either). There were many trees, enough to where each house was separated from view…so Hermione found it fitting to be able to safely take a walk.
Her footsteps crackled as she stepped through dead leaves on the forest floor. Occasionally, water from the trees would sprinkle over her skin, raising chillbumps. Enough moonlight filtered through, though, and she could get a decent view around her. Soon, the forest opened into a clearing, which Hermione entered. The grass was overgrown, but there were trails where people or animals had walked and crushed the grass down. She leaned back against a tree, taking a deep breath, and shutting her eyes.
"Granger? Granger, wake up. Are you okay?" An all-too-familiar voice made Hermione's stomach fill with dread as her mind rose through the fog of sleep. Where was she? Her honey colored eyes opened, staring straight into the stone grey eyes of none other than Draco Malfoy.
Hermione shrieked and brought her hands up, pushing on the pale man's shoulders, and feeling the rough tree bark on her back as she did.
"Granger! Shut up!" Malfoy hissed, grabbing both of her wrists and effortlessly holding them still. He narrowed his eyes. "I'm not trying to hurt you- I thought you were dead. Or something." He didn't let go of her wrists.
"W-what? That's preposterous." Hermione stammered, trying to get the gall to snap at him or move or something. Anything.
"How is it preposterous? You are in the midst of a forest, slumped back against a tree, your head was lolling to the side and you're all damp. You bloody well could have been dead, so I checked on you. You're lucky I happen to like nighttime walks. You could have been dead in the morning. Or raped or something of the sort." He spoke quite matter of fact about it all.
"Well…" Hermione said, grasping for straws. She had no argument. She wasn't even aware she had fallen asleep. She sighed and shook her head, a few stray brown curls brushing her face. Finally, Draco released her hands, and she shifted to sitting on her knees, with her hands splayed across her thighs.
"Might I ask why you're out here, anyhow, Granger? It's two in the morning. What possessed you to be so ridiculous?" Draco hissed. He wasn't coming off as an insensitive prick as usual, though. He almost seemed worried… but not quite.
"I moved in to a small house," She stated, motioning in the vague direction of her house. "I wanted to take a walk, I didn't purposely fall asleep."
"Where's Weasley?"
Hermione quirked an eyebrow at the pale-haired man. His hair wasn't slicked back, but left hanging in his face. When he wasn't being a rude, arrogant prick, he wasn't ugly. "I'm living alone for now. I needed a break."
"… you too?" Draco's voice fell a bit, and his shoulders seemed to slump. For the first time in… ever, she saw him as vulnerable. She'd seen him afraid, and hurt, on the night the war reached its peak, but she'd never stopped to dwell. It's not like Malfoy hadn't lost anything either.
"Yeah." Hermione whispered. "I couldn't… handle going on like this, especially going straight into everything with Ron. I just needed to get out and away and have myself, to myself. If that makes sense…" She shook her head, and a few cold droplets of water fell onto her face. She reached behind her head, and took the tie from her braid, pulling the plaits apart and shaking her head to loosen them more.
"That's how I felt. It's been… hard. But it's over now. So finally I decided to go on my own and figure things out." He gave a halfhearted shrug and rested his gaze to the moonlit ground, watching Hermione pulling little bits of grass up.
"You're just going to go back to treating me like some Mudblood aren't you?" Hermione asked after a few long, silent moments. As unwarranted as the comment was, she felt the need to say it.
Draco shrugged. "Honestly, I don't know. Truthfully, Granger, I don't quite mind you. You're quite annoying and very much a show-off. But you're kind of pretty, and you're innocent. And very strong. You never did leave Potter, through all of that. You probably did all of the work, really."
Hermione couldn't help the small smile that jumped onto her face. She looked at Draco, studying his sharp face, high cheekbones, platinum hair and stony eyes. He was harsh… but not ugly. The same time, Draco studied Hermione, glowing pale skin and honey eyes, framed by her frizzing chocolate brown hair.
Draco felt warm breath ghosting against his skin and realized that he and Hermione had become awfully close to each other- and he didn't even know how. "Hermione," He warned.
"What?" She asked, meeting his gaze. Their noses were touching, they were so close. His breath smelled faintly of butterbeer.
"You're much more innocent than I am."
"Says who?" Hermione hissed, backing away.
"Oh don't play it up, Granger!" Draco nearly laughed. "You're a little virgin, you've barely even been kissed and everyone knows it."
"What, like you're the king of relations here?" Hermione retorted, narrowing her eyes. This game had just changed.
"I never implied that, but as you know, a good amount of women fancied me and I got a good bit of attention. If you know what I mean," Draco's telltale smirk quirked his lips up, and Hermione wanted to punch him.
"Are you implying I'm not good enough to get such attention?" She snapped.
"I don't know, are you?" Draco shot back. Hermione narrowed her eyes, and Draco watched her muscles tense as she pounced on him. Hermione Granger literally pounced on him. She held her face right above his, staring Draco in the eyes.
"I'm plenty good enough," She breathed, resting her weight on Draco's toned body. She could feel his muscles straining. "You're the one who is not good enough for me, how about that? You're no prince. You don't own everything, Malfoy. And I won't tolerate you pretending you do. I saw your face when Voldemort touched you, when you held your mummy's hand. You're not so tough, Draco," Her voice dropped to a hiss (which, Draco had to admit, was seductive).
Malfoy shifted under Hermione, being slightly uncomfortable, but found she had he pressed down quite heavily. Strong girl. "Hmm, who knew Granger had such a side to her?" He teased.