Chapter Four:
Hermione was not an over-sensitive person. She rarely cried, and whenever she let herself succumb to tears she had a perfectly logical and justifiable reason. For example, she always cried at funerals – she'd had to attend far too many funerals – and she always cried at weddings. She cried watching The Notebook, and she cried when reading Marley and Me. Hermione never spontaneously cried because she had too strong of a grip on her emotions to do so. Hardened by war and sadness, Hermione had managed control her tears, and had always managed to keep her composure during times of hardship and loss.
Despite all of her well-built emotional walls, by the time Hermione had finished the routine wards and safety precautions her tears were flowing freely. "Why does seeing Ron make me so upset?" she asked aloud to her empty flat. "We're supposed to be happy together! Merlin, we're supposed to be the bloody dream couple!" Hermione laughed bitterly at that comment. "If we're the dream couple I'd hate to see the nightmare couple. And now I'm bloody talking to myself, brilliant."
Desperate for something to cement her sanity and take away her traitorous tears, Hermione upended the messy bottom drawer of her bureau. Riffling through the contents, tears still leaking from her eyes, Hermione triumphantly grabbed a black, leather-bound photo album from the mess on the floor. Hurrying to her kitchen counter, Hermione called out, "Accio firewhisky!"before sitting down and opening the book.
Ginny had given Hermione the book for her twenty-fifth birthday, and had made all of the pages herself. Apparently, some of the rarer photos came all the way from Minerva McGonagall, who was very hard to find by then. Retirement made some people extremely elusive, apparently.
Hermione downed a tumbler of firewhisky before reading the words written on page one; just about everyone that Hermione had ever known had written something on that first page. The words, "You're the best 'Mione! Best of luck with your new business. We still need to meet for coffee sometimes, yeah?" were written in Harry's nearly illegible scrawl. Baby James had "written" something for his "Aunty Mione", and even Kingsley Shacklebolt had written a small message. Hermione found herself searching the page for a message from Draco.
What? Draco wouldn't be on this page! Hermione thought, pouring herself another glass of firewhisky. We're not friends. We're just….forced acquaintances. But the more Hermione focussed on that term, "acquaintance", the less she associated it with Draco. Even if he was a stupid Slytherin that had stalked out of her office, he had really seemed to understand her issues with Ron last session. Great, now the therapist needs counselling. Bitterly, Hermione downed the tumbler. When was the last time I drank like this? Hermione wondered, her brain already slightly fuzzy. After the final battle? No, no, it has to be more recent than that…. She lifted her refilled tumbler up to the light to examine the amber contents more closely.
Reluctantly, Hermione put down the glass and flipped the page of the album, revealing a moving wizarding photo. This one was taken during the Trio's first year at Hogwarts, and showed Ron, Harry, and Hermione standing with Hagrid in front of his hut. Harry stood to the left of Hagrid, and he was smiling, glasses lopsided, his eyes remarkably light. This picture was taken right at the beginning of the year, before Harry knew about Quirrel, Hermione thought. Hermione was standing on the opposite side of Hagrid, clutching some dusty tome to her front and looking like life was just too good to be true. It really was too good to be true, she thought, tracing her photo lightly with her fingertip. Lastly, Ron was right beside Harry on the opposite side of Hagrid, waving and grinning his lopsided grin that so endeared him to Hermione. His smile hasn't changed, Hermione thought glumly. Does my smile still look like my first-year smile?
Picking up the photo album, Hermione walked to the bathroom. She quickly removed all of her make-up and then propped the book up on the ledge just in front of the mirror. She compared the two faces; one from the photo, and one from her current reality. Hermione of the past looked carefree, happy, like she could float right up from the photo. Present-Hermione looked like she was burdened with some unspeakable hardship, and that the weight of her sadness was pushing her into the ground. Smiling, the past-Hermione's eyes lit up and her entire face seemed to brighten. Present-Hermione sighed. "Here goes nothing," she mumbled, before thinking of her patronus memory, the happiest memory she could find.
Her smile didn't reach her eyes. The happiness seemed to stop just below where here tear-ducts lay beneath her skin. Maybe I've just cried so much that I've broken my smile, Hermione thought bitterly. Despite her best efforts to be genuinely happy, Hermione's eyes remained brown and burdened. "This is depressing," she said out loud. "I'm done with this. I'm going to bed." And without setting her alarm, without even changing out of her dress, Hermione lay down and fell asleep instantly.
When Hermione was awoken by weak sunlight hitting her face, she knew that she was late. "Bloody hell, not again!" She continued to swear loudly as she shed her rumpled dress and donned a business suit. Looking in the mirror, Hermione decided that her hair was ok and just needed brushing – no time to waste on straightening charms or bobby pins. Grabbing her briefcase, Hermione rushed out the door and sprinted to the tube station.
After impatiently awaiting her stop, Hermione jumped out of the train-car like she was on springs, and dashed into the street. Glancing at her watch, Hermione groaned. "This can't get any worse, can it?" she asked the world, only to have the world respond with a torrential downpour of rain. "Wonderful," Hermione said dryly, her hair already frizzing beyond her control. She swore loudly as she realized that she'd left her umbrella at home. "Damn it all," she said, running the four blocks to her office.
When she opened the door to her waiting room, Hermione found Miss Berkeley pacing anxiously once again. Before the young girl could say anything, Hermione said quickly "No need to worry. I just need a moment."
Miss Berkeley nodded and handed Hermione a coffee. "The way you like it, Doctor – no sugar, but a bit of cream."
"Thank you very much," Hermione said gratefully, inhaling the life-saving scent. "And it's Hermione!" she threw over her shoulder as she opened the door to her office.
Closing her eyes, Hermione sank to the ground in front of the door. "Merlin," she said to herself. "Why do these things seem to always happen to me?"
"Well, Miss Granger, I'd say you bring them upon yourself."
Hermione shrieked, jumped up and pulled her wand out of her suit pocket. After a moment of recognition, she realized that she had just been scared out of her wits by Draco Malfoy. Sitting perfectly straight (on the couch, Hermione thought smugly), wearing a black three-piece suit, his blonde hair slicked back precisely, cane across his knees, he created quite the image.
"As is obvious from you pointing your wand at me," Draco started, standing up and walking towards Hermione, "You still have control over your magic. Whether or not you know how to use that magic properly is beyond my powers of observation, but a simple water-repelling charm is first-year material, Doctor Jean." Draco was now very close to Hermione. "And," he said, his lips curling up into a smile, "you dropped your coffee."
Hermione looked down and realized that in her panic she had, in fact, spilled her coffee all over her suit. She swore loudly. "Now I'm going to have to get this bloody dry cleaned," she ranted, pulling off her almost-ruined suit jacket so that she was just wearing her wet grey blouse and black skirt. "It's probably ruined -"
"Miss Granger," Malfoy interrupted. "Are you, or are you not, a witch? You could fix that with a simple charm, you know."
Hermione attempted to regain her composure. "It is my policy to minimize my use of magic, Malfoy." Draco arched one blonde eyebrow. "I'm living in the muggle world, it seems right that I should live as a muggle."
Draco snorted. "Now that has to be one of the stupidest things I've ever heard. Live like a muggle, hah!"
"If you remember correctly," Hermione said lowly, "I am a muggleborn – I lived the first eleven years of my life without any magic whatsoever. I think I can manage to minimize my magic now, thank you very much." Hermione lowered her wand and stuffed it into her briefcase. Draco arched his other eyebrow, his eyes flicking towards Hermione's wand. "That was for self-defence!" she sputtered. "That's an entirely different matter!"
"Well, I'm not restricted by your stupid rules," Malfoy said, grabbing the edge of Hermione's suit jacket. "So, I can do this without feeling guilty."
"No!" Hermione shrieked, attempting to pull her jacket back.
"Yes," Malfoy said calmly, taking his wand out from his pocket.
"No, I refuse to let you – to let you – do that!" she finished lamely.
"Your vocabulary has deserted you, bookworm," Malfoy said with a laugh, pulling the coffee-stained jacket towards him.
"Well at least I had one to begin with," Hermione hissed, tugging back.
"My, my, aren't feisty this morning darling?" Draco mocked, pulling the jacket so hard that Hermione stumbled forwards.
"Let go, Malfoy," she said through gritted teeth.
"Let go? Really?" Malfoy asked, a smile hovering over his lips.
"Yes, really! Now let" – tug – "my" –tug – "jacket" – tug – "GO!"
"Alright, your wish is my command darling." And with that, Draco let go of Hermione's jacket, his sudden release causing Hermione to stumble backwards, trip over her briefcase, and fall – hard – onto the floor.
Tears appeared in Hermione's eyes, although she tried very hard to blink them back. There were several moments of tense silence. "That actually really hurt, Mr Komodo," Hermione said quietly, rubbing the wetness in her eyes away.
Malfoy's smile fell immediately, and a pained look appeared in his grey-blue eyes. "I apologize, Doctor Jean," he said formally, extending his hand to help her up.
Hermione, clutching her stained jacket to her chest, smiled wanly and took Draco's offered hand. His skin was warm and dry, completely the opposite of Ron's, Hermione thought. Draco continued his apology. "That was very childish of me, and I am extremely sorry for any hurt I caused you."
"I just fell over, it's not like I broke anything," Hermione said, wincing as she felt the bruise on her back forming.
"I came here to make a better impression," Draco said, almost to himself, "and I just….screwed everything up. Again."
Hermione looked up at Draco, who was still holding her hand subconsciously. "You didn't screw everything up," Hermione whispered. "Right now you're being a perfect gentlemen."
Draco looked down at her, and an indiscernible emotion flashed across his face before he looked back up again. At a loss, Hermione looked at Draco's chest. Not a bad view, she thought, her eyes tracing the muscles beneath the shirt. Hermione blinked quickly. No, no, no, nonononono. You're not doing this to yourself, not with Draco Malfoy of all bloody people.
Hermione looked back up at Draco's face. "Thank you," she said quietly, before she pressed herself against him in a hug.
Looking like someone had just slapped him across the face with a flobberworm, Draco looked down at the young woman who had so suddenly hugged him. When was the last time I got a hug like this? Draco wondered. Maybe never.
Rather than let Granger awkwardly give a one-sided hug, Draco made a life-changing decision; he decided to hug her back.
Oh Merlin he's hugging me back, Hermione thought. When she had initiated the hug, Hermione was just looking for a way to fill the space and stop staring. Now she was bloody hugging Draco bloody Malfoy! Awkwardly, Hermione tried to pull away from Draco only to find that the Slytherin was holding her quite tightly. Hermione swore silently. What have you done now, Granger?
Then Draco lightly rested his chin on Hermione's shoulder, and Hermione absolutely melted. Well, it's just one hug, she thought. He needs it! It's my duty as a counsellor. It's not like I'm being unfaithful, or anything...it's a hug between friends.
Hermione moved her hands up Draco's back, increasing the pressure between them. Draco then started absentmindedly moving his hands in small circles on Hermione's back, still keeping his hands above her waist. The light, roving pressure felt so wonderful, and Hermione felt her eyes close... No! Nononononono, I can't do this, she thought frantically. Big no-no. We're done now.
Slowly pulling back, pressing past Malfoy's light hold on her back, Hermione eventually succeeded in increasing the gap between her and Draco. Noticing that Draco's eyes were closed, Hermione coughed lightly. "Erm, thank you Mr. Malfoy," she said awkwardly.
Draco's eyes snapped open, and he quickly put a step between himself and Hermione. "Not at all, Miss Granger," he said stiffly.
It was just then that Hermione noticed that she had left obvious wet splotches all over Malfoy's suit. Looking down at the floor around her, she also realized that she had created several small puddles all over the floor. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" Hermione cried, immediately looking around for something to dry Draco off with.
Draco looked down at himself and grinned. "No worries, Miss Granger, I – a powerful and talented wizard -" Hermione snorted unabashedly, "shall clean up your office in mere moments!"
Acting like the ringmaster of his own circus, Draco dramatically banished the offending puddles from the floor and cast a quick drying charm on himself. However, his drying charm proved to be a bit strong and rather than a single jet of air coming from his wand, a proper gust blew up across his clothes and face.
Blinking rapidly, Draco looked somewhat apprehensively at Hermione, as if he was waiting for the sarcastic comment that was sure to be fired in his direction. Hermione disappointed him however, when she started laughing. "You truly are a most powerful wizard, Lord Malfoy," she giggled, noticing that his hair looked quite good when it had been freed from its gelled prison.
Draco smiled again. "You are also a most powerful wizard Miss Granger, only one wouldn't guess it from looking at your rather wet and bedraggled appearance."
Hermione smiled, wickedly raising one eyebrow. "Well, at least I don't walk around looking like I stepped out of the nineteenth century," she retorted, beginning a playful banter.
The exchange of comments continued, but this conversation was different than most others that Draco and Hermione had; this exchange wasn't made to hurt, or embarrass. Rather, both parties were just seeking connection, acceptance, and a welcoming embrace to fall into.
The forty-five minute session ended quite suddenly for Hermione and Draco. They both looked at the beeping clock as if it were a traitor, walking into their peaceful truce and reminding them of a harsh reality. Hermione sighed. "Well, unfortunately your time is now up Mr Malfoy. I do have other appointments."
"Draco," he interrupted. "Please, call me Draco."
Hermione started. "Well of course...Draco. But only if you call me Hermione."
"Even in front of your secretary?" Draco asked, his lips quirking into a half-smile.
"She knows my first name," Hermione said, exasperated. "She just switches my last and middle names around."
"Of course...Hermione," Draco said, the name feeling foreign on his tongue.
Hermione walked with Draco to the elevator, leaving a very confused Miss Berkeley behind them.
"Why is she looking at us like we're about to catch on fire?" Draco whispered as they left the room.
Hermione laughed. "After your display the other day she expects you to murder me and leave my body where no one will find it." Draco frowned, not finding the comment funny in the slightest. "Oh, she just worries for me!" Hermione assured him. "She's really quite a dear."
Pushing the button to summon the lift, Hermione broke the silence by blurting out "What's the head on your cane? I was trying to see what it was during your session, but I couldn't really figure it out."
Blushing, Hermione looked down at the ground. Draco placed the head of his cane under her chin, and lifted her head so that she would meet her eyes. "It's under a disillusionment charm, meant to confuse those who look at it on the streets," Draco said slowly. "Even Pansy doesn't know what it is."
"Oh gosh, I'm sorry," Hermione babbled, blushing profusely. "I didn't mean to pry, I'm sorry I asked. I only just realized that it wasn't a snake head." She looked away again.
This time, Draco used his hand to gently move his eyes back to meet his. Merlin his hands are soft, Hermione thought.
Draco smiled slowly. "Tell you what, Hermione," he said, saying her name slowly. "I'll show you what's on my cane if -"
"Oh, I knew there was a catch!" Hermione huffed dramatically, crossing her arms.
"I will show you what's on my cane if you allow me to schedule an appointment for 8:45 tomorrow," Draco said quietly.
Hermione pretended to consider his offer. "Why of course, Draco," she said pointedly. Grinning a rather wicked grin, Hermione continued "I wasn't considering inviting you back unless you offered me some sort of incentive."
Draco smiled. "Until next time, Doctor Jean." He stroked her cheek slightly before removing his hand entirely. Then Draco tipped his hat and stepped into the just-arriving lift.
"Until next time, Mr Komodo," Hermione said, waving as the elevator doors closed.
She didn't notice it as she walked back to her office, but if Hermione had stopped to look in a mirror she would have noticed that she was sporting the most beautiful smile. It was full, sincere, and lovely, and it reached deep into her eyes and created the loveliest twinkle.
A/N: Chapter five (featuring Hermione's lunch with Harry) coming soon! Thank you for your lovely reviews and support! ~sneakyslytherin