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Chapter 7 – Contemplations and Spark Plugs:

He awoke while the room was still dark. Her head was on his chest and her left arm across his stomach. He untangled himself from her arms. If he had not had to visit the bathroom, he would have stayed put. He would stay like this forever if he could.

After the necessities of existence were taken care of, he came back in the room. She was now on the right side of the bed. He smiled and walked up to her. He looked down on her, and he knew that she really had no idea that he was the same person from the letters, that he was the Death Eater who had written to her. He walked over to the other side of the bed, and lay back down. He was warm so he left the sheet off his body. He crossed his legs at the ankles and looked back over at her.

She said she was having an 'emotion affair'. She didn't say she loved him; just that he filled her needs emotionally. She did not say that was the reason for her divorce. Really, she didn't tell Draco anything that he had not already known, except for one thing: he was shocked to find out she was pregnant, that much was true.

He lied to her when he said that he was meeting a woman and that he got cold feet and didn't show up. The truth was, they had arranged to meet, and she was the one that didn't show. Draco felt that was proof that she didn't love him, but of course, who falls in love exchanging letters.

He did.

He turned his gaze up to the ceiling. He wrote the letter to her at his mother's request. When she was dying, she told Draco to make amends to everyone he had wronged, so that when he died someday, he could die with a clear conscience, with no regrets. She told him if she could do the same, she would.

He waited many months after she died before he finally wrote his letter. He wasn't sure why he started with Granger. He had many people from whom he needed to seek forgiveness. Perhaps it was because of her father, and the fact he was so kind to Draco's mother. Perhaps it was because he felt she was vulnerable. The last time he had seen her, at a Ministry dinner, she had seemed sad. Moreover, perhaps it was because he was depressed and lonely, and he just needed a friend, and he knew she would be the most amenable.

He never signed his name, he never went into specifics about his biography, all he did was pour out his heart, told her his fears, and begged for forgiveness. He didn't send the letter for a few weeks. Finally, he re-read the letter, and sent it. He never thought she would reply, not in a hundred years, but she did. When he read her letter, he thought she sounded as sad as he was. He wrote her again, and thus, their tentative friendship began.

It was probably around the fourteenth letter that he thought he might love her. He wanted to reveal to her who he was so much. The thing was it was easier for him to write to her, without talking about personal things, although she poured out her heart to him, and he to her. Still, she held back a lot as well. For instance, he knew nothing about her painful past until the last couple of days, and he sure as hell didn't know she had a stillborn baby.

When they had finally arranged to meet, and she didn't show up, he decided to try to forget about her. He could not. He sent her another letter, and she never responded. He sent her two more, and she still did not respond, so he cut his losses, and went on with his life. Draco now wondered if that was around the time of her miscarriage. When he came back here, he had no clue that she was about to return. He came here to forget her, but in the end, he never forgot her. That day of the fire at the Dairy, her father stopped by his house and asked him to pick her up at the station for him, because he had to go help the injured.

Draco didn't think there would be any harm picking her up, he had gotten over his feelings for her, and she still didn't have a clue that he had been the one behind the letters. He waited at the station forever, and when she never arrived, his mind wandered back to the day that he waited for her after they arranged to meet in their letters, and she never arrived. He ended up driving around, cursing her to the heavens, when he finally saw her as he crossed a bridge.

She was sitting on the railing, and he stopped at the end of the bridge. With each step she took closer to his car, the more his confidence at seeing her again waned, and he finally drove off just as she reached the car. He lacked her Gryffindor courage.

He drove to the village, and saw her enter the little store. He waited for her again, did not drive off this time, but when she saw him, she wouldn't get in the car. Of course, she had no idea he was the one who had corresponded with her all those months ago. When she finally accepted his ride, the third time he tried, he found all the anger he had held for her for rejecting him subside, and he knew he still cared for her.

He knew she was still in pain.

He knew she was in more pain than she was before.

The truth was that he more than cared for her; he still loved her, even if she didn't love him.

He knew her pain was greater than his pain, so he had to be the bigger person and help her. After all, she had helped him recover from his pain, by accepting his apology when he first wrote to her. Unbeknownst to him at the time, he was helping her, too.

He turned back to his side and looked at her again. She looked so peaceful when she slept. Why was she afraid to sleep alone? Not that it mattered; he would be there for her if she needed him. He wouldn't tell her who he really was. She didn't need to know. He decided he would forgive her for not meeting him that day. He would be her friend, because she seemed as if she really needed a friend.

She started to stir, so he shut his eyes. On a whim, he put his arm back across her. She must have opened her eyes, because he could tell she was looking at him. He felt a bit more daring, and he pulled her over on his chest. He thought she would quickly push away from him, hit his chest, and yell, 'wake up!', but all she did was lay her head back on his chest. He felt wetness on his chest. She was quietly crying. He heard no tears, but he felt them. Now he felt bad, imposing on her when she thought he was asleep. She continued to cry, tears soaking his chest, as he fabricated sleep. Why was she crying? She finally gently disentangled her arms from around him, and she sat up. She silently walked to the bathroom. When she came back, she sat in the chair in the corner.

He sat up and turned on the light.

"What time is it?" he asked. He really had no clue.

She looked at the clock on her desk and said, "It's early, only a bit after 6:00 o'clock. You should go back to sleep."

"So should you," he said.

"I don't think I can," she said sullenly.

"Come and try," he urged. He moved back over to the right side of the bed, and she slowly walked back over to the left. She faltered for a moment, and then slipped under the sheet.

"When I woke up, we had switched sides somehow, and I don't know how that happened," she said, smiling at him.

"Strange," he commented.

"I don't know if I can face this day," she suddenly said, her hands over her face.

"What is this day?" he asked.

"The day before the big party. I just want to run away, or throw up. I'm not sure which. I could just not go. I'm sure they wouldn't notice. Of course, I'm supposed to go in town and buy a dress, as if I could find a dress that would suit Monica in town," she concluded.

"Tell you what, Granger," he said, facing her, "you and I will apparate to London, buy you a pretty little frock, and then spend the rest of the day at my house here. Maybe we could get started on that painting."

"Tempting offer, but I don't know," she said.

"Come on, you know you want to, and it's not as if they'll miss you around here. You aren't needed to help with anything, are you?" he asked.

She grinned and said, "Believe me, my help would be neither accepted nor wanted."

"Great, then you come to my house after breakfast, and we'll plan our day," he said, "but for now, let's get some more sleep." He really did feel tired again. He shut his eyes, this time, no longer pretending, and he fell back to sleep. She was the one watching and pondering now.

She didn't understand why she felt so comfortable with him. It was as if they were old friends, when nothing could be further from the truth. She didn't want to get too close to him. She couldn't bear to lose another person she loved. She thought back to the day she was supposed to meet her friend from the letters. She had wavered back and forth on whether or not to meet him, when she finally decided she had to meet him. Then, her world turned upside down, and nothing was the same, and she had to live with that regret forever.

Of course, if she had met her friend that day, she might not be here now, in bed with Draco. How odd that sounded. She smiled internally when she thought of what Ron and Harry would think. Perhaps she should write them and say, "Hey chaps, I slept with Draco the last two nights. In fact, I'm in bed with him right now." They would have a fit. It might be somewhat funny, though.

Hermione stood up and went to shower. Once again, when she came back out to her room, he was gone. She went down to the breakfast room. The family always had breakfast in the dining room, so she knew she would have this room to herself. One of the maids walked past and offered to get her some breakfast. Hermione thanked her. She started to tuck in, when Michael passed. He came and joined her.

"That looks good," he said, stealing a piece of her toast. "So, do you still need me to drive you into town to get a pretty, new little dress for the party?"

"Did you mother remind you of that, Mike?" Hermione asked.

"Of course, for your fashion emergency is more important than the running of this farm," he joked.

"Draco Malfoy is going to take me," she said.

"Ho, ho, aren't you two getting cozy," he laughed.

"It's nothing like that," she said quietly.

"I'm joking, Hermione. I know you aren't ready for anything yet." He put his hand on her shoulder and said, "Have a nice time. Buy a pretty dress. I love you, Hermione, I really do, more than you know." He bent down and kissed the top of her head.

After she ate, she snuck past the dining room, where her father and Monica were still talking, and she walked upstairs to grab her purse. She made sure she had her wand, and then she apparated to Draco's front door.

She arrived at Draco's house and knocked on the door. He didn't answer. She waited for a while, knocked again, and when there was still no answer, she walked around to the side of the massive house. Along the back was a large four car garage, and one of the doors was opened. She looked in the door and saw Draco under the hood of the same black car that he used to pick her up from the station. She walked up to him and leaned over the hood, her hand next to his on the fender, and she said, "Problems?"

He straightened up and said, "No, not really problems, but the bloody car won't start, and being a Wizard, I can't fix the stupid thing the traditional way, and I've already tried to fix it with magic."

"Well, I don't know much about vehicles either, but aren't we apparating to London?" she asked.

"No, we are driving," he said, peering back under the hood.

"That's a pretty far drive, over 300 kilometers. That would take us at least four hours, on these roads," she guessed.

He poked his head out from under the hood of the car long enough to say, "We aren't going to London." His head disappeared again.

"When did our plans change?" She frowned. "I'm pretty sure I won't find an outfit to appease Monica at the one little department store in town." She leaned over the car again, to look at the engine with him. "What are we looking at, anyway?" she asked.

"Hell if I know," he said. "I always see Muggles doing this when they fix their cars."

"Well, I'm pretty sure they don't just stare at the engine, they probably do something else," she said. He stood back up and put his hand on her arm. He moved her away from the car and slammed the hood shut. He turned to face her.

He said, "Now, about your many inquires, first, we aren't going to London. Of course, you won't find an appropriate dress at Longfellow and Sons, and we aren't apparating anywhere." He got back in the car and tried the engine. Nothing happened at all. He slammed his fist on the dashboard, got back out of the car, slammed the door, and shouted a string of curse words, two that Hermione had never even heard before.

"I'm confused," she said.

"So am I," he uttered. He opened the hood again.

"Not about the car, about our plans today. I'm confused about our plans," she clarified.

He looked at her closely, and said, "You look confused." He looked back under the hood. She leaned over with him once again, this time her shoulder touching his.

She pointed to a spark plug and said, "Is that supposed to be attached to something? Because, I'm pretty sure it is."

He reattached the plug, got back in the car, and it started. He climbed back out, and gave her a big hug, and to her amazement, a kiss on the cheek. "You aren't just smart, are you? You're a genius!" He let her go, closed the hood and flung her door open. He walked over to the driver's side and said, "We don't have all day, get in the car."

She stood there shocked, with her heart rate elevated from his display of affection. She leaned in the passenger side, and said, "Are you kidnapping me again?"

"Get in and find out."

She got in and shut the door.

He said, "Will I get a handsome ransom if I kidnap you?"

"I doubt it, but Monica might pay you if you keep me," she said as she laughed.

"Hmmm," he hummed. He would if he could. "Though I won't get a ransom, I will still force you to come."

He drove out of the garage and she said, "Please, tell me where we're heading."

"Sorry, I can't hear you over the radio," he shouted.

She actually shook her head, and said, "The radio's not even on."

He turned the radio on, loudly, and repeated, "Sorry, I can't hear you over the radio."

She turned the radio off and said, "Are you mad? Why won't you tell me where we're going?"

Draco smiled and said, "Trust me. Live your life for once, don't plan it. Throw away your date books and calendars. Stop wearing a watch. Forget the day and the date. Throw away your agendas and timelines. Have some fun, and some faith, and you might like it."

"What a speech," she said quietly. "I'm not easily distracted these days, so I'm sorry if I'm preoccupied with things like dates, and days of the week. I really want to know where we're going."

"Live with disappointment," he remarked, turning onto the main road.

"That's easy enough, I've lived with disappointment most of my life," she stated.

"Poor, poor pitiful you. Tell, you what, Granger, you answer one question for me, and I'll answer one for you, like a little game," he said.

"Fine, ask me anything, well, not anything, but ask me something, which I reserve the right not to answer," she said.

"Why did you marry Davies?" he asked.

"I loved him, and I wanted to be married," she said. "Actually, put that the other way. I wanted to be married and I love him."

"Is there a difference?" he asked.

"Sorry, that's two questions. My turn, where are we going?" she asked.

"To a little hamlet 50 kilometers away. They have a wonderful boutique there, and you will find the perfect outfit. See how easy this is?" he asked. "That wasn't your question, by the way. Next question, you said you had an emotional relationship with another man, did you love him?"

"That's personal," she said. She thought for a moment. It wouldn't hurt to tell him the truth. "Yes, I did. My turn, what are we doing after we get my dress?"

"There's a resort there, and I booked us a room," he said.

"What?" she exclaimed.

"For facials, massages, manicures, pedicures, etc. Get your mind out of the gutter. Now, my turn, did your divorce have anything to do with this man?"

"Yes and no," she said.

"That's not fair," he said, turning to her. He turned his eyes back to the road. "You must answer."

"It's not that simple. It's honestly yes and no, and without getting into an explanation, that's the best I can do for you," she reasoned.

"Fine, that one doesn't count then. My new question is this, would you have left your husband for this man?" he asked.

"I had planned to. I didn't even know his name, yet, we had planned to meet, run off together, kind of like you and your woman friend," she said.

"And you stood him up like I stood up my woman friend, I bet," he said. He really wanted to hear her finally say it. He had forgiven her, but he needed to hear her admit it.

"No, I didn't. I don't fault you for leaving your woman friend. If you didn't feel it was right, you did the right thing by not meeting her. I however, had planned to meet my friend. I actually went to meet him," she said.

Draco suddenly swerved off the road. Hermione was flung forward so fast that she had to put her hands out to steady herself. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yes, what happened?" she asked.

He wanted to say that he was shocked, because he knew that she did not meet him, because he waited hours for her, but why would she lie? She had no reason to lie to him. She didn't seem as if she was lying. She sounded truthful. He said, "I'm sorry, there was a chipmunk on the road. You didn't want me to hit a chipmunk did you?"

"Well, no," she said. "By the way, that counts as you next question. My turn."

"Ask me one more question, Granger, then that's enough for today," he said. He pulled back out on the road.

"Do you still love the woman you left?" she asked.

"Yes, why?" he asked. He dare not look at her, less he reveal the truth.

"I just needed to know." She turned and looked out the window. He was still in love with someone. She didn't know why that made her sad, but it made a difference to her, it really did.

"Okay, I get to ask one more, since you did," he said. "If you went to meet your friend, why aren't you with him now?"

"I thought you were going to ask me if I was still in love with him," she said.

"Answer either one," he said. He needed to know the answer to both, but one day at a time, he reminded himself.

She didn't want to answer either. She thought she might be falling in love with Draco, but that was silly, for they had just become reacquainted. What should she say?