No Copyright Infringement Intended

A/N: Like "Happy" this is at the idea of someone else, in this case it's Disinterested, so credit for the idea goes to her.

I honestly think this songfic started out as a joke, but I went along with it anyway. "When's Draco's cue to come in and sorta save Hermione?" I had a lot of fun writing this, and though it's a sequel you don't have to take the first as a Draco/Hermione ship, because this wasn't my intention.

On another note this songfic may make more sense if you read "Happy" first.

A Beautiful Mess - Jason Marz

You've got the best of both worlds

You're the kind of girl who can take down a man,

And lift him back up again

Three... Four... Five... Six... Seven... Hermione counted the rings in her newly clean kitchen. The blood, and wine had been scrubbed away, and the glass thrown carefully into the rubbish bin. With a couple flicks of her wand she could have cleaned it just as well, but she wanted to do it the muggle way. Instead of reaching for that red bottle again she scrubbed hard, the muscles in her arms complaining. Like her heart they were still hurting.

Eight... Nine... Ten... The machine beeped. "Hermione? Hermione, I know you're there! What was that yesterday? What's the matter? I've never seen you act that way before. Hermione?" Harry's deep voice was desperate, and worried. It stabbed her deep.

She picked up the phone. Through the receiver she heard, "thank goodness! Herm -" She set it back down hanging up on her best friend. Her old love.

Harry was engaged to Ginny. She lost her chance. She shouldn't have given up so easily on him. After the war it was hard. He blamed himself, and she blamed herself for the inability to make him feel better. It effectively ended their relationship.

She stared at the phone from her place on the counter. She was there since the morning when the ringing jolted her awake. With all the wine she had a killer headache, her senses dull, all but the heartache she was feeling. No amount of drinking could make that go away.

It rung again... Once... Twice... Three times. She jumped off the counter, and grabbed her jacket for the rainy weather that was pelting against the windows. She had to get out of there before Harry came over. It was hard enough without him bothering her there in person.

You are strong but you're needy,

She walked along the sidewalk outside of her picture-perfect house. The rain slid down her waterproof brown jacket, but soaked into her bushy hair weighing down clinging it to her cheeks, and shoulders. Her jeans became soaked by the puddles she was splashing with her drenched trainers. The only thing that was dry was her shirt. The same plain tear-stained t-shirt she was wearing the day before. She didn't change anything from yesterday. It was all a horrible reminder, but she couldn't tear herself away from the ringing before.

In the distance through the sheets of rain was a tall, thin man with bright blond hair. He was smiling. She loathed it. It got under her skin. Draco Malfoy, her enemy, the bane of her Hogwarts days.

Since the battle of Hogwarts his family came very clean. They made a complete turn-around. They claimed themselves muggle-lovers. They donated to muggle charities, and Mr. Malfoy pushed for muggle protection laws. It disgusted Hermione that the very people who were intent on following Voldemort, and eradicating all the muggles were the ones that were doing the most good.

Malfoy hadn't called her a mudblood in years. He called her beautiful, a trance, lovely, gorgeous, or anything similar, or revolting. He pursued her with vengeance. If the Malfoy's indeed changed then there was the chance he only chased after her for proof of his transformation.

Halfway towards the corner they both stopped. They stood in front of each other. She inspected his dripping hair, and clothes, and laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"You walked? Why not apparate?"

"Because I knew you'd be walking too."

"Leave me alone, Malfoy." She sidestepped him, and kept walking. He followed at her heels.

"I know what happened, Granger. Potter told me."

She cringed. Potter happened to believe the Malfoy's vows. It was very unlike him, after all the Malfoy's had done! If it weren't for Dobby they would've all died in the Manor! She sided with Mr. Weasley, George, and Ron. They weren't going to be fooled.

"Why would he tell you?" Even Potter who believed the Malfoy's weren't friends with them.

"I live closest to you. He wanted me to make sure you were all right."

"Humph." Another disgusting fact about Draco was that he moved into a muggle community.

"I'd have to say that you don't look it. You look like hell."

"Thank you very much."

"No problem."

He kept her stride to the end of the corner where she stopped, and turned on him. "You can now go back, and tell precious Potter the truth."

Draco stepped back, his eyes wide in shock. "Since when did you talk about your best friend like that?"

"None of your business!" It wasn't the best she could have done, but she wasn't in her right mind. She really should stop drinking.
"Oh that's right, I reckon you did when he got engaged," he stated coldly. "Everyone knows that."

She felt tears spring into her eyes. "Everyone," she whispered. She did make it public at the Weasley household.

Draco rolled his eyes, and shrugged off his jacket. He wrapped it over hers, an action that confused her. "Come with me."

"Where?"

"My house. It's right down the corner."

She felt bile rise in her throat at the idea of walking into his home. "Why would I go with you?"

"Because you need me."

"I don't need anyone."

"You don't need anyone, but me." He reached behind him withdrawing his wand. He pressed it in her palm his eyes bearing into hers. "Now you're the strongest. Not like you ever weren't."

She pocketed his wand. "Okay." She had nothing else to lose.

Humble but you're greedy

Around the corner two houses down was Draco's. Black among the gray stones. Typical. It didn't surprise Hermione, but the inside did. It was decorated in lots of neutral colors like beige, and browns. There was a lot of glass, a glass coffee table, glass frames. Self consciously she dragged her feet on the grainy matt outside of the front door.

He took the two jackets from her hanging them on hooks by the doors. It became clear to her then why he gave her his.

Along the back of it was red. Some splotches were lighter than the others. Wine, and blood. It was a mess.

"I didn't think you'd like me pointing a wand at you to clean it."

"No," she agreed. "I wouldn't."

"Didn't want to look at it all the same." He flipped the jacket over. "Better."

A chill passed over her, bumps appearing over her arms, and legs. Stupidly she left her wand at home, something she never did before, especially not after the war. She thought briefly of using Draco's wand, but that would feel beyond wrong.

"Use my wand," he repeated her thoughts.

She shook her head unable to explain why she felt the need to catch a cold.

Draco held up a finger to signal that he would be a minute, and he disappeared down the hallway. She waited only a few moments considering sitting down, but not wanting to ruin his furniture. It was probably worth more than her years paycheck. When he came back he held black trousers, and a white silk button shirt. He gave them to her, and pointed down the hall. "Last door on your right there's a bathroom. Leave your clothes there. Ginger will get them dry later."

She nodded, and went down the long hall. There was no need to rebuke his need of a houself. Any houself of a Malfoy was paid generously. That was the biggest piece of evidence she could ask for when it came to the changes in the Malfoy's behavior.

The bathroom was done in crystal. Crystal bath, crystal tap. The floor shined as if there were bits of crystal in it too. Some things about the Malfoy's didn't change. Their fixation with overly expensive details were one, even if Draco lived in a much smaller house than the Manor he was accustomed to.

Hermione pulled off her clothes though they fought to stay on, and dressed in the dry ones of Draco's. She averted her eyes away from the inside tags. She didn't need to know which popular designer made them. She did wish she could avoid the smell of it, the dark musky smell of Draco, but she did manage not to look into the mirror above the tap. She was nervous enough being in a Malfoy's home, she didn't need added worry about how terrible she looked. Draco made it clear that she looked like hell.

Based on your body language,

your shouted cursive I've been reading

Draco sat on the sofa with his bare feet on the coffee table, two bottles of water in his hands. He held out one for her, and she took it sitting next to him, the sofa forming to her body. Expensive water too. What a surprise.

They sat in silence for a long while. Hermione's drink was half gone when Draco had to speak breaking the lovely silence they wrapped themselves in. "You look good in my clothes."

She glared refusing to respond.

He went on anyways. "You'll get over him."

She shrugged.

He groaned taking her drink setting his down next to hers on the coffee table. He turned towards her, and stared into her eyes. It made her uncomfortable, and she casted hers down.

"Don't be shy," he hushed placing a single finger underneath her chin tilting her face in line with his. He kept his hold on it.

She wanted to push him away, but in his serious features she couldn't find the reason for doing it. "I'm not shy I -"

"Hate me," he finished.

"Yes."

"Fine," he sneered, "but know this, Granger; I'm far from hating you." He brought his face closer, his breath on her cheek. "I'm so far from hating you I don't remember my reason in the first place."

"I'm a mudblood."

"So feisty," he mumbled. "I don't care... Not anymore. You're beautiful. Smart." His lips brushed her cheek. "Feisty. Real." He touched his mouth to her cheek. "Tell me to stop."

She inhaled ready to say it, but nothing came out, not even a breath. Stop, she thought.

He leaned back, and then forward kissing her lips. He was smiling.

You're style is quite selective,

though your mind is rather reckless

Hermione kissed him back. What am I doing? I'm crazy. I'm snogging Draco Malfoy! This is... Wonderful... She pressed harder, her hands finding his shirt tugging at him, through the materiel her nails dug into her palms.

His hand ran over her wet hair down her back. A different kind of chill ran through her. He held his open hand to her lower back pushing her to him chest to chest.

They moaned, bit, fought with their tongues until he retreated. He smirked at her, and she cursed herself.

Well I guess it just suggests

that this is just what happiness is

"I think the chase is over," he said huskily.

"You sicken me."

"That's not what it felt like."

"That's what it felt like to you." She shoved him angrily.

"What do you feel?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Something I shouldn't..."

"Which is?"

"I don't know."

"Do you want me to answer?"

"You don't know me," she growled.

"I know that you're happy with me."

"That is not true! I'm vulnerable right now, that's all!"

He shook his head grasping the back of her neck bringing her face to his. "Yes, you are vulnerable, but you're happy with me. You haven't thought of him once. Did you ever kiss him like that, Hermione?"
She gasped at the sound of her name, and the blunt question that it was in. "No," she answered honestly.

"Because I'm not him. He let you go. I won't."

"I don't trust you."

"You will."

Hey, what a beautiful mess this is

It's like picking up trash in dresses

Moaning, biting, and fighting. One would push, the other would pull. Back, and forth. Him, and her. Draco, and Hermione. Different, and lovely. All rolled into one. Together.

"This is a mess," she mumbled when she took a fresh breath that was half interrupted with his mouth.

His lips moved over hers. "A beautiful mess."

"I'm broken."

"So am I."

"Not the same way."

"But all the same."

"Please don't..."

"Break your heart?"

"Yes."

"I thought we established that I'm not Potter? I would never, Hermione."

"You're taking advantage of my pain."

"When I fix you will you leave?"

"No."

"Because a creation can't leave the creator."

He laughed. She laughed. They kissed. An owl hooted.

Well it kind of hurts when the kind of words you write

Kind of turn themselves into knives

An owl perched on the table with a letter, his eyes menacing as if he didn't like Hermione's presence. Draco reached over to take the letter, but the owl hopped back. Draco left her on the couch, and snatched the letter from his eagle owl's beak. He opened it, and scanned the letter quickly. "Potter," he muttered, hatred dripped in his tone. He threw the letter to her.

Hermione looked anxiously at him, before turning to the letter.

Hermione,

I know you're there. I talked with Ginny. I know why you're upset, and I'm sorry. I am marrying Ginny. I have to move on, and you need to do the same. It was over before it began. I'm sorry. I hope you'll still attend.

Harry

She ripped the letter into shreds, then those shreds into smaller pieces until her lap was covered in confetti. "Jerk," she said tears streaming. Through a letter he couldn't have hurt her worse than if he was there saying those words. They were sharp, and cut into her.

And don't mind my nerve you can call it fiction

Draco took her hands dragging her to her feet, the pieces of paper falling. He kissed her deeply. She lost the air from her lungs until he jerked back to look at her properly. His hands let hers go to hold her waist. "You love him, but I'm not giving up without a fight."

'Cause I like being submerged in your contradictions dear

"I hate you," Hermione told him ruthlessly.

"You hate him," Draco corrected grinning for a second at her poorly constructed lie.

'Cause here we are, here we are

Although you were biased I love your advice

"Here we are. You know how he feels. You know how I feel. I know how you feel. He's never going to come back, Hermione. He doesn't love you like that, he never will, and can't. I can. What're you going to do?"

Your comebacks they're quick

And probably have to do with your insecurities

"I hate you," Hermione reiterated.

Draco did too. "You hate him."

"I hate both of you."

"You like me."

"You're wrong."

"You're lying."

There's no shame in being crazy,

Depending on how you take these

Words that paraphrasing this relationship we're staging

Hermione let the last tear for Harry fall. She gulped the lump in her throat. "This can never be."

"If you let it."

"This is crazy."

He laughed. "Where's the shame?"

"I think I left that when I agreed to come here."

And it's a beautiful mess, yes it is

It's like, we are picking up trash in dresses

Draco kissed the drying streaks on both of her cheeks. "You think we don't belong, but we do. Yes, we're a mess, but a beautiful one. We fit."

"There's no such thing as a beautiful mess. You want me for the wrong reasons."

"You want me for the wrong reasons too. See? We do belong together."

Well it kind of hurts when the kind of words you say

Kind of turn themselves into blades

Hermione looked over her shoulder at the ripped letter on the floor. Some showed shining black ink. The knives as she would think of it, they were destroyed. They couldn't hurt her any longer. She wouldn't let Harry hurt her anymore.

And the kind and courteous is a life I've heard

But it's nice to say that we played in the dirt

Once they existed together. They fought together in the battles, and the war. It was too easy. They had fun, and acted like it was meant to be. She wondered if the whole time he was thinking of Ginny. She didn't go any further with that theory, because the answer would hurt too much.

They were something years ago. Years. It didn't feel like that long. They pretended, smudging their relationship until it became beyond repair, and yet she wouldn't trade any of it. She had a part of him that Ginny couldn't touch. That knowledge alone would last her through the wedding, because of course she had to attend. She would remain a friend by the slightest definition.

Cause here, here we are, Here we are

Here we are

Hermione directed her attention back to Draco. He was smiling like he won a great prize. Normally it was something she'd smack right off his face. This time she returned the same smile. They lost, they won. They used each other for their own gain, but they would learn to love. If she loved anything, she loved learning.