AN: Y u guys no review?

The Arcane Flight Part 6

Hermione spent the morning freshening up and changing into a new set of robes before seating herself at the table and thanking Kreacher for her breakfast. She ate slowly, savouring the flavour. Last night had been quite an ordeal for her emotionally foggy brain.

"Tell anyone, and I"ll jinx you to the grave and back." Draco Malfoy had said to Hermione Granger before smoothing down his robes and magically fixing his dishevelled appearance.

Hermione had rolled her eyes. "I'll take your secret to the grave, Malfoy." She'd jested.

Malfoy had blanched instead of laughing, and swept out of the room, leaving an exhausted Hermione who fell into a fretful sleep wrought with monsters and screams.

She now wondered what awaited her this fine day. Outside, it rained and this reminded her of her childhood. Snuggling up with a quilt on rainy weekends holding a book in one hand and a cup of hot cocoa in the other-those had been simpler days. That child did not know what awaited her. But she would not think along those lines now. This was a time to be patient and persevere.

She was perusing Secrets Revealed: The Dark Arts and their Potency, a nasty piece of work she'd found in an upstairs wardrobe, when Malfoy burst into the hall. He'd clearly just apparated onto the block and rushed inside. He wore a travelling cloak, which he promptly threw on a coat rack, looking like a statue to Hermione.

After he'd ordered Kreacher to get him a cup of tea, he finally acknowledged her. "Nice book you're reading there."

Hermione merely gave a wan smile and threw the book on to the coffee table, pulling her feet up. He always arrived with that cool, expressionless mask in place. But a few minutes around her lately and it fell. She didn't want to ask, but she knew he'd dump it on her anyway. When had she become his entertainer? "I trust you haven't had the best of days?" She finally asked politely.

Malfoy sighed. "You could say that." He took the tea that had just appeared before him and took a long savoury gulp. His hands were fine-boned, like the rest of his aristocratic features.

"What happened?" Hermione asked carefully.

"There were some rowdy men in a bar who began to act out, encouraging rebellion. Suffice it to say that they won't be doing that again. Or much of anything." Malfoy said harshly.

Hermione sighed. She couldn't understand him, no matter how she tried. "So people still bother to speak out?"

Malfoy nodded. "Occasionally." He set the empty cup of tea down. "But there's no real momentum to it. That's all gone."

Hermione rubbed her hands together. It was bizarre that she felt like comforting him. Her of all people, even after what she'd been through due to the likes of people like him! Cowards, lunatics, and racist gits, they were. Once again she wondered what had happened to the outside world in the six months she'd been detained.

"My father's encouraging me to get all this stuff sorted out. With you, I mean." Malfoy said stiffly. "He's nervous. Things have never been quite right for him after Askaban and he doesn't want me to do anything foolhardy."

Hermione tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "Well he doesn't have anything to fear. In a few days I'll be dealt with and you'll be free to spend all your free time rebuilding what's left of the world...and whatever else you do."

She knew he had given her time mainly for selfish reasons. He wanted this last link to a time that had been better for him. Someone he could drop the mask with. She felt guilty for what she was going to do to him, but not guilty enough.

Malfoy didn't respond to what she said. Instead, he stared at her. "Let's go out."

"Pardon me?" Hermione asked. "Out? Where?"

"Don't ask so many questions, Granger. Just stand up."

Hermione did as she was told. She straightened her hair and robes, looking at him stubbornly. "Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere I can have my wicked way with you." He replied tartly. "Now, come on."

Hermione stared blankly at the pale hand he held out. "Um."

"I don't have all day, Granger. Don't you want to step outside once more before parts of you are severed from your body?"

Hermione blanched, but reached a hand out and placed her much smaller one in his. He wasted no time. Taking his wand, he cast a disillusionment charm on her. It felt like warm trickles of water sliding from her forehead to her toes. Then, he grabbed her hand and pulled her noiselessly out of the house behind him. Once they'd crossed the barrier and Grimmuald Place disappeared, leaving only the houses on its left and right, he finally spoke.

"I'm going to apparate out of here." He said as a warning. Hermione could only nod before the familiar squeezing sensation ensued. When it finally eased, she opened her eyes to a surprising scene. The wind pushed her hair this way and that and her robes billowed around her legs as a stormy sea gazed back at her under the scrutiny of a cavernous grey sky. Her legs threatened to give way under the mighty rocks her feet were placed on.

Malfoy walked ahead of her, down onto more rocks where he sat and stared into the horizon. Hermione felt as though she'd stumbled into a scene from a muggle film about an angsty summer and two lost souls guided together by the open sea . Something stupid and cheesy with a terrible plot. Something unreal. But this was very real. Carefully watching her steps, she made her way down and sat beside him.

"My mother used to bring me here." He replied. "I never really knew why. I suspect it was because the sea had a calming effect on me despite the fact that I hate swimming. I threw nasty tantrums as a kid. There's a cottage not far from here that I used to spend a few weeks at in the summer at as well."

Hermione didn't think there was anything to be said, so she stayed silent.

"You're probably wondering why I brought you here." He said with a chuckle.

"I thought it was a last treat before I die." Hermione said with a smile.

"Somewhat. But-."

"—You just want to share it with someone? Yeah, I know." Hermione finished for him, unable to take her gaze off the ominous waves that crashed in front of her due to the wind.

"I don't know who I am anymore." Malfoy said with a sigh.

She felt as though he was having a conversation more with himself than her. As though she was an unwilling participant. "Yes you do. You're Draco Malfoy, wealthy pureblood extraordinaire."

He smiled wryly. "Yeah," Was all he said, however.

"Wanna know who I am?" Hermione joked.

"Maggot meat?"

Hermione scowled. "In a fashion," She admitted. "But I'm also the strongest person alive. That's me."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Are you now?"

Hermione nodded. "I'm strong. You know why? I don't believe strength is about never failing or being weak. Strength, true strength, is getting back up no matter how many times you fall into a pit-."

She didn't know what happened next. One second she'd turned her head right to stare at the water as she spoke, and the next she'd turned her head to look at him and he'd reached out and grabbed her cheek. She fell instantly silent. It was as though he'd placed his fingers against her lips to hush her, but he hadn't. He traced his fingers along the pale skin of her cheek reverently, eyes tracing his fingers as if he wanted to memorize every detail. Hermione froze as he stroked her with the back of his fingers gently. She wondered how many scars he was looking at

Hermione should have said something. Protests sprung on to her lips, and so did a mountain of reasons for why this was a disgusting thing, but they all died down. She could be scathing, she could cull this, but why ruin a moment of clarity? Today did not belong in the realms of yesterday. Granted, he was scum, but he wasn't beyond redemption. Instead, Hermione thought of Dumbledore and his capacity for kindness, and she did the unlikeliest of things. She smiled at Draco Malfoy, whose eyes widened before he returned it hesitantly.

The single moment stretched into eternity as the sky above them boomed loudly once more. The first raindrops fell from the heavens on to their very still bodies. They did not take notice of any of this, however, for their eyes were locked—seeing not the present, nor the past, but a reality that existed outside of time altogether.