DRACO:

The week that passed was gentler it seemed. Piano time sort of traveled with them everywhere in the dorms now. They'd have conversations on the couch or in the kitchen with her sitting on the counter and instructing him how exactly to make a scrambled egg on the stove (he never quite got it). It was different with the castle so empty and no classes to go to. She'd been reading in the courtyard once and he snuck up on her quite content to let his fingers brush by her own in public.

Who would see? The birds?

It was all boiling down to the day she left. Today. He had been watching her pack with his arms crossed and grey eyes following her form, looking through her clothes and books and things, worrying way too much about what she should and should not bring. They had migrated to being comfortable in each other's rooms and he was currently sitting on her bed just staring at her slightly frazzled jerky behavior.

"Here." He says finally with a sigh and his extended arm where he held her wand that she had been looking everywhere for. He might have taken it earlier just to prolong her stay. "You left it near your pillow." His lie was smooth and perhaps not as convincing as it should have been.

HERMIONE:

Normally, Hermione would have finished packing prior to the end of the week, but she had been a bit… distracted. Malfoy had the strangest sense of timing. Almost to the very millisecond, when she began to get out her trunk, he would come to her, invade her bedroom and drag her along on some sort of task. At one point, it involved her teaching him how to cook scrambled eggs… only to promptly kick him out of the kitchenette and take over when he burned them. They spent the better half of the day letting the place air out, even though it was freezing, reading on the couch in silence; luggage forgotten.

So, today was a rather frantic day. Hermione was all set to use the floo network in McGonagall's office, and all she had to do was pack.

And find her bloody wand.

She paused in the midst of her shuffling and glanced over to Malfoy, who now extended her wand to her so nonchalantly. Hermione made a face, then reached for it, thinking little of the motive in the midst of her panic. She murmured a small "thank you" and tucked the item away into her boot.

The last week had been more than pleasant. Whatever was sacred in their piano sessions seemed to bleed out into pretty much everything they did. Whatever barriers there might have been before seemed to vanish. They wandered into one another's rooms, seemingly at random, tucked up on the couch with tea to read, and whatever debates or conversations they could possibly be wrapped up in within the confines of the dormitory seemed to follow them wherever they went.

Crookshanks had now curled up next to Malfoy, blindly content and purring happily. Occasionally, he would nuzzle the blonde's hip to garner some attention from him. Hermione took note of this and the corners of her lips quirked upwards in a small smile as she finally managed to close the lid of her trunk.

"You're sure you don't mind him staying here with you? He'll get his hair on everything, you know," she said, teasing in her tone.

DRACO:

She closed the top of her trunk and when it clicked he could feel the tightening of his chest as if his rib cage was restricting his heart. She wouldn't be gone long and he constantly reminded himself of this fact. The reality is that when you grow used to a person and even enjoy them it's hard to let go even if you knew that it was only temporary. A part of him felt like if she left she'd never come back. That when she went to the Weasleys and felt that pull of family and Ronald again that she'd come back different somehow. She'd come back hating him.

Thin lips pull into a smirk when she mentions the feline that had gotten quite content with his company and was currently trying to get his head as far into Draco's hand as possible as if he could possibly get more scratches out of it. "He's my best friend nowadays. I couldn't let you take him away." His voice is low in pitch and obviously dramatic although he did consider the fur comment for a moment. "You're right. I might skin him while you're gone." As if sensing what he had said the cat bit down on his pinky and he hissed and nursed the digit. "I fucking swear it can understand English."

Humor had been the crutch he was holding onto but it was sort of falling flat now. He couldn't walk her to McGonagall's after all. When they said goodbye it would be in this dorm and they wouldn't see each other until after New Years. Clearing his throat, he held up a finger as if to motion her to wait before leaving the room and returning about a minute later.

The parcel was light in his hands and the wrapping paper is brown and plain but he shoves it into her arms all the same. He seemed almost disgusted with himself that he had actually went to the trouble of badly wrapping a present that he had spent much too long wracking his brain over. Pathetic. "We won't see each other for Christmas so. . . Happy Christmas."

His hand is now at the back of his neck to scratch it awkwardly not sure if he should just stand there and watch her open it or leave. He settles for watching her open it. Inside there's a sweater that he had bought for her. It was a deep forest green that was just big enough to keep her warm and also to let a sliver of her shoulder peek out and wrapped in that sweater is something he had taken almost two weeks to find.

"That's the right one, yeah? I didn't know. . I had to listen to a lot of them to pick it out since I only knew the melody you played on the piano." The record of At the Ivy Gate by Brian Crane. They didn't have a record player but maybe the Weasleys did. Maybe they could get one.

HERMIONE:

She laughed at the both of them, rolling her eyes as usual. Just as Hermione was hauling the trunk from the bed, Malfoy had excused himself and she paused, straightening herself up again. Patience was a virtue, indeed, but Hermione had never been a master in practice. She was about to turn back and continue struggling with the damn thing, but had stopped when she heard her bedroom door creak again.

The witch turned back to find a package in front of her and raised both eyebrows, pleasantly surprised. Taking up the present with delicate hands, she unraveled the wrapping, a small blush hitting her cheeks and making them pink.

Of course he would go with green. It all but slapped her in the face, and unlike her usual character, she smiled in spite of its symbolism. Immediately reminded of that episode with Ron's sweater, now she had a new one to consider. It definitely looked roomy and comfortable. Hermione could already see herself enjoying being rolled up in it, sitting with a book in front of the fireplace in the common room of their dorm. She smiled a little wider.

But there was something under the fabric; something that made her unravel the clothing a little to reveal it. Her eyes went unmistakably wide and she let out a breathy laugh, shocked at the amount of attention it must have taken just to work out that this was the right one.

"No, it's… it's the right one," she said, reassuring him with a nod as her honey brown eyes traveled up to meet his gaze. "Thank you. These are… they're perfect."

The items were gingerly set aside, fully intent on putting them into her luggage momentarily. Taking a moment, Hermione shuffled around the room and aimed for the dresser, digging into the one that held her shirts. She tugged out a smallish package that had very neat wrapping paper, ferrying the item over to him.

"I got you something too." Stating the obvious. Her thumbs sunk into her front pockets and she waited with a hopeful expression for him to unwrap it.

Within was a rather old-looking copy of Wuthering Heights. A first edition.

"I mean, I know how much you liked it, so I figured I'd… get you your own copy."

DRACO:

He stood there feeling more nervous than he had in a very long time, jaw tightening while her fingers unwrapped the paper to look over what was inside. The blush calmed him immediately and he smirked slightly when she looked the sweater over. It wasn't subtle in the least but then again he hadn't really meant it to be. "That orange train wreck didn't go well with your skin tone. I just thought I would give you some options." His eyes glinted with the mischief of this statement and then he dropped it completely.

Her soft laugh filled him with pride and it felt like a reward for doing the right thing. Thank fuck. A sigh of relief expels from his lungs and he's nodding to her as if it wasn't a big deal at all when in fact he had spent days desperately scoring over Muggle record stores to find the right one.

She walked to her dresser and he had assumed maybe she forgot something to pack but her arm extended and he took the parcel with a low laugh. The wrapping paper looked a hell of a lot better on hers and it was just so obvious between their personalities that his would be a mess and hers would be straight lines and perfect folds. "You didn't have to." And he means it. Draco was not hard on money in the least and anything he wanted he could get.

Then again he would be lying if he said he wouldn't treasure whatever gift she gave him. Peeling away the wrapping paper he looks down at the book with a silence. Grey hues take in the words and the age of it and how hard it must have been to get one that seemed so original. It was one of the most heartfelt gifts he had ever received because it wasn't just some new suit or tie or a new ring or silver dining set. It wasn't like the gifts he had gotten for years or the gifts he'd get from his Mother come Christmas. It was so much more. He placed the book down on her bed easily and he had yet to look up at her and when he finally does there's something in his eyes that he hadn't really every portrayed to her.

Fear.

"Granger. . .You'll come back, right?" Not to the dorm or the school or to classes. He wasn't talking about that. He wanted to know if things would be the same as they were for the past few months. He wanted to know if she'd change if he wasn't constantly there to remind her not to.

HERMIONE:

She watched as relief swarmed his eyes, and happiness at his gift. Needing absolutely no words of thanks, Hermione found herself beaming rather proudly and puffing out her chest. His reaction alone was enough to tell her that she had done well in her selection, and that now, she owed favors to an awful lot of people, Harry included.

Hermione's eyes widened slightly, watching each and every movement he made while he placed the book so subtly upon the bed. He always did move with an intense grace that made her freeze. More so now, since he was looking at her with an emotion that she almost found impossible to place. The registration had taken her a moment, but she realized then that it was almost the exact same she had seen that night at Malfoy Manor. Wider eyes, trembling lip… though now she was trying desperately not to think of just how kissable it was. She did that a lot lately. But the fear was there, crawling over his visage like a disease only she had the cure for.

You'll come back, right?

Her head tilted, eyes narrowed, brows furrowed, but she knew. She appeared confused, but for all different reasons. Something very small nagged the back of her brain, spinning webs of memories and lies. The witch shook her head, wondering why he would even feel the need to ask her something like this when he already knew the answer.

"Of course," she promised, taking a step closer to him. Just like that night. The night she had supposedly dispelled him and his wild accusations. The very same night that was, by far, one of their worst. It had all happened so long ago, yet one thing was so clear in Hermione's mind. Proof that she was going to contradict herself. Proof that she was going to become a hypocrite; a martyr. Perhaps that was precisely how she wanted it.

Nothing I will ever do will be for you.

"I'll always come back for you."

DRACO:

Draco remembered the very first night at the piano. She bared herself for him and he felt like he had been given something so important that he couldn't crush or fuck up. She'd given him a piece of her and it was his job to keep it safe somewhere in his chest guarded by sharp teeth and bruised knuckles. He had given her the same thing now and his eyes practically begged for her to take it. To accept it and nurture it into something he could be proud of. Into something that she could care for.

She, from head to toe and inside and out is made of love. She is gentle and kind and still so full of courage and strength to fight for herself and most importantly the people around her. She was the farthest thing from him that he could even imagine and yet here they were in this circle of never really saying the words but feeling the emotions and not acting on them.

He had spent such a long time wondering how the world could create something as powerful and majestic as her. Granger was a silent beauty in a world that just couldn't stop talking and he'd found her. He had done one good thing in his life and it was finding her in the crowd of it all. When he was a boy his Mother had told him once that there was going to be a girl who's smile reminded him of honey and her eyes could distract the very devil himself.

Well, he was the devil and she was the girl.

Draco believes her and above all he trusts her. It means more to him to trust someone. It means so much that he can't even put it into words for her to understand. He lets out a shaky breath and resists the urge to cry. He doesn't want to do that now. Not here. Not when this was supposed to be warm and happy and not a forever goodbye.

"Alright." His voice is low and soft and when he reaches out for her his fingers curl over her waist. He wants to kiss her so badly that it burns his skin not to do it but instead he simply presses a lingering kiss to her forehead. There was time for kissing when she came back and made a choice.

She'd come back.

"I care for you."

HERMIONE:

Whatever speech she could have made to Ron went flying out the window now. Hermione had heavily considered this for quite some time, but now, in this room, and with the relief splashing over his face as though this were some fantastic, sublime revelation… she knew what she needed to do. By now, every single nerve had been worked up to the point where she just wanted this all over and done with. Of course, it was likely that she would avoid mentioning the tryst they'd had, or the moments they shared, or… the fact that she was even friends with Malfoy at all. It would be far too much, far too soon, and Ron was a rather fickle creature. She would need to take all of this one step at a time.

Right now, all she wanted to do was unpack and never leave this room again. Leaving this dorm, even for the holidays, felt like leaving for good. Hermione didn't like that idea. Not in the slightest. Her eyes fluttered to a close as his lips fell gently upon her forehead, almost instinctively resting her palms upon his biceps while she reveled in this silent goodbye.

I care for you.

By now, Hermione's forehead had descended against his chest, enjoying the beating of his heart. The words echoed in her ears and she slowly picked up her chin, guiding her sights up the front of his shirt and to his face, where she met his honesty with a growing smile that put the sun itself to shame. It even outshined the smile she wore when she opened her gift. Nothing could have been more blinding.

"Now that is a present." Her tone was airy and soft. Almost playful. Hermione lingered just for a moment, still beaming brightly. As she stepped away, she let her hands drift down his arms, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze before she released him. "Come on," she said gently. "Walk me to Morrigan."