Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters below, that is, if you don't include the stewardess. =) Oh, and I used one of Elton John's songs, "Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word". I wrote it, based on memory, so I'm not sure if the words correspond exactly. So… please don't sue me! Thanks! =)

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Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word

Hermione relaxed against the comfy cushion behind her back. Staring at out the window, watching as clouds drift away with ease and no trouble at all, she sometimes wished that her troubles would be like the clouds above.


"Tea for you, Miss?" the stewardess asked.

Hermione shook her head tiredly. The young stewardess in front of her seemed to give her a sympathizing glance before moving on to the next seat.

Why wouldn't anyone not give her a glance like that? Hermione thought. She looked so tired right now, and with the dark circles beneath her eyes, she looked so much like a cat which just got dragged into the house from the pouring rain. Yet, no one could blame her for feeling tired. Physically, she had to take the train back to the Muggle world, and then book a ticket to France, only to realize that there were no more tickets left for the direct flight there. She had to make a detour, which involved getting off at Germany, before going to France again. That meant long hours for her.

She didn't have much sleep at all. Mentally, she was feeling worried and guilty. She felt guilty due to the reason that she had somewhat indirectly lied to Harry about her reasons to go to France.

But then… she never really got down to telling Harry anything. She had simply left a short note for him, sending it to him though owl post.

She had switched off her mobile phone, too. So Harry wouldn't be able to reach her. Maybe that was what she was worried about. She didn't really know why she didn't want Harry to contact her yet… but maybe it was because she didn't want Harry to realize the truth that Draco hadn't signed the divorce papers.

Speaking of which, were lying in her tote bag rather safely now. She patted it self-consciously.

Worrying didn't help the situation at all, for it gave rise to a new problem once Hermione wondered what was the true reason for her worrying at all.

She thought, is it because I'm afraid that Draco wouldn't sign the papers, or is it that he won't see me? Or rather, is it because she was afraid of his reaction towards her coming to visit him. Or…

Stop, Hermione told herself sternly, or she'll go crazy.

One thing was sure though. She really had to get down to apologizing to Draco about her suspecting him, though she wasn't that sure that an apology would help matters.

Standing in front of Draco's door after checking the address over and over again to make sure she had it right, Hermione cleared her throat softly and raised a hand to knock the mahogany door.

Knocking for a few times, Hermione heard no response, and wondered for a moment whether she had truly gotten the wrong house or was it that he wasn't at home… again.

So she knocked some more, only to have her hand raised in mid air when the door finally opened.

"Ah-" she started, not knowing what else to say facing him all of a sudden. Damn it, but she should have prepared a speech, just in case for emergency situations… like this.

Draco's eyes widened at the sight of her. Could this be Hermione Granger? The nerd in school? The girl he used to love? And is she the woman he still loves…?

Hermione's hair wasn't bound tightly with a band like it used to be. It was long and wavy, no more bushy and frizzy. The long tresses cascaded down her back and set a positive glow about her, even though her eyes suggested otherwise, that she was tired rather than feeling positive about anything.


"Hermione?" he half-whispered.

Hermione cleared her throat once more. "Yes." Now why the hell was she so nervous. Lord, she felt like some school girl, gawking at the sight in front of her. Of course, this was no ordinary sight. Years have passed, yet Draco's hair still shone with silvery brightness. But it wasn't slicked back, like it used to be. It wasn't long either. It just reached to the nape of his neck and his bangs seemed to frame his stormy gray eyes, which Hermione, for a moment, suspected was full of emotions.

She started to open her mouth to say something, but then decided not to, in case she did something foolish.

"Come in," Draco said gently as he leaned against the door, leaving her plenty of space to go past him.

Hermione nodded, not knowing what else to say to him, now that he had a new change of tone and attitude towards her. He used to be hostile and sarcastic, with bitterness hanging over every edge of his voice.

But of course, Hermione reasoned. He doesn't know what you're here for.

Yet for a second, Hermione thought to herself, what am I here for, then?

Sitting down on the comfortable couch, with Draco in the kitchen, fixing some drinks for her, she fingered for the papers in the tote bag. She didn't take them out yet, but she was hesitating, and only God knows why, she thought.

Draco returned, with two glasses of wine in his hands. He set it down on the table and sat down the couch diagonally opposite Hermione.

"So, what brings you here," he asked tentatively.

"I just wanted to-" but she stopped in mid sentence, her last word hovering in the air above both of them.

"To?" Draco prompted, afraid of the true reason of her visit.

Hermione sighed; might as well get the apology over and done with, then I can move on to the papers.

Do you really want to move on to the papers?

Yes, I do, so keep your mouth quiet.

All right… but are you really, really sure?

Shut. Up.

She looked up at Draco's eager eyes.

"Draco-" it was weird saying his name for the first time in such a long period of time. "I know what really happened with my father."

Draco's face hardened, and the bitter tone was back as he said, "Yeah, you just didn't choose to believe me, huh?"

"No!" Hermione denied quickly. "I visited your father to hear about your whereabouts, and he told me."

Draco's rigid shoulders grew more taut and tense. "I have no father."

Hermione felt sadness travel through her whole body.

"Lucius, then."

Draco nodded curtly but kept silent. Not a word was spoken between them for a few minutes before Hermione asked if he was all right.

What have I got to do to make you love me

What have I got to do to make you care

What do I do when lightning strikes me

When I wake to find that you're not there

Draco seemed to snap back into reality as he frowned. "I'm all right, but I'm just wondering why the hell would you take that bastard's words over mine."

What do I do to make you want me

What have I got to do to be heard

What do I say when it's all over

That sorry seems to be the hardest word

That was it. No more to be said. But Hermione needed to say "sorry". She just couldn't bring herself to say it. Her pride was acting as too big a barrier.

It's sad, so sad

It's a sad, sad situation

And it's getting more and more absurd

It's sad, so sad

Why can't we talk it over

Oh it seems to me

That sorry seems to be the hardest word

So she looked at her watch and told Draco quietly that she needed to go find a hotel before it got too late an hour.

What do I do to make you want me

What have I got to do to make you care

What do I say when it's all over

That sorry seems to be the hardest word

Draco remembered the empty spare guestroom he had in the house, but nodded and opened the door for her.

It's sad, so sad

It's a sad, sad situation

And it's getting more and more absurd

It's sad, so sad

Why can't we talk it over

Always seems to me

That sorry seems to be the hardest word

As he closed the door, he couldn't help but think, is this really the end, Hermione? Is 'sorry' just too hard a word to be said?

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* to be continued…*