Can I be your Love?

Chapter 9

Hermione took lunch with her housemates. She spent just as much time telling them to keep on top of their studies as she did eating. The mindless chatter filled her ears and it helped calm her nerves.

When she had parted from Draco at the castle doors, she felt an odd shift in his behavior. He was secretive again, but in a shy, protective fashion. The silence was different from his moping, more pensive than anything else. If he was thinking, then Hermione had no reason to interrupt that. She headed straight to the Great Hall with her novel when Draco went upstairs to drop off his broom first.

Most students were casually dressed and talking in clusters at the tables when she walked in. Greeting those who said hello to her, Hermione found a seat at the Gryffindor table.

Neville joined her and talked about the plants they were going to study in Herbology when they returned from vacation. It was good; stopping her mind from wandering. They spent as pleasant a time as possible together, joining in conversation with other year-mates as they sat down. Most were bleary eyed, causing Hermione to give them hard looks.

"You weren't partying all night, were you? You weren't causing problems for anyone who wanted to sleep, were you?" Her words were met with distracted looks and mild mutterings under their breath. Apparently, Griffindors and Ravenclaws partied alike.

As lunch rolled by, Hermione saw Draco in the corner of her eye at the Slytherin table, surrounded by classmates as they laughed and joked with each other. They might not have noticed, or cared, but Hermione could see the mask that Draco wore. It was a spectacular rendition of his usual arrogant expression, yet it lacked the usual sincerity, the possession of that arrogance.

Crabbe, Goyle, Zambini, even Parkinson didn't seem to comprehend the difference in Draco's behavior. Hermione lowered her gaze, seeing the small shift in Draco's head toward her table. She didn't want him to see her watching him.

"We're training today, do you want to come watch, Hermione?" Ginny asked from down the table.

"Maybe for a little while. There is some studying that I need to do." Hermione didn't want Ginny spouting off in front of others about a certain boy. When the team stood from the table, Hermione was dragged off with them. She felt people's gaze as the group left noisily. But there was one gaze that she felt was different than the others. He knew where to find her if he needed anything. Though he wouldn't unless it was important.

It wasn't until evening after dinner that Draco spoke to Hermione again. They had spent the rest of the day doing their own things. Hermione was at the Quiddich pitch for an hour before holing up in the common room and studying. Draco had gone off and wandered through the castle, sometimes with colleagues, but often times alone. He always managed to find something that caught his interest. That day, he rearranged the displays in the trophy room. Working with his hands distracted him from the newest wonder on his mind.

He thought that, with his mother's condition, he wasn't supposed to have romantic feelings at all. Instead, it seemed that it was more natural for him to fall for her than any other time. Perhaps they were two kindred souls.

A snort of laughter found its way out of him when he thought that. Hermione threw him an odd look from her desk.

"Kindred souls?" Draco thought to himself, keeping his laughter to himself. "As if."

That's not even why he was attracted to her. It wasn't their similarities. It was their differences that caught his attention.

"You should take a break, Hermione. You've been studying for two hours straight now." Draco was reading his Transfiguration book on the couch. Though, honestly, he only read a few pages since he got bored quickly and turned his attention to watching Hermione shift through her mountain of papers at her desk.

"Bored, Draco?" Hermione turned with a sly smile on her face. "You've been watching me for over an hour."

Busted.

"You noticed." Play it cocky. Maybe she would blow him off if he did. And maybe snowmen like to vacation in hell.

"What's gotten into you?" Hermione threw herself onto the couch beside him. "I understand some of your mood swings. But now… you're just plain confusing."

"Would you like to know?" Draco put his book down and leaned over her, boxing her into the corner of her seat. He was surprised to find himself liking her embarrassed expression as she squirmed.

"I… well… if you don't want to say anything, then I'll try to understand." Hermione's mind was trying to work. It really was. But the smell of his soap was hijacking everything and all she could do was try to breathe normally.

"You know what?" His voice dropped to a near whisper. "So would I."

They stayed like that, staring chocolate brown into silver gray. Neither knew what to say. There was no sense to what was happening between them. If there ever was any sense, it fled from the room like it was lit on fire.

"I wasn't really studying." Hermione found herself saying.

"I know." With a smile, Draco pulled back, giving Hermione her space again. "What is wrong with me?"

With a sigh, Draco dragged his hand through his hair, undoing all the gel and making it stick out at odd angles. It felt like he was getting tugged in a million different directions. He was sure that he was holding his head in his hands, but he couldn't be sure. It did not feel as if it was attached to his body. It was not acting as if it was still in his control.

"Who can really say?" Hermione said kindly. Draco turned slowly to look at her, but was surprised when he felt her hand run softly through his hair. She removed his hand from doing more destruction to his hair and cautiously combed his hair with her fingers. "Maybe it's the same as what's wrong with me?"

After several moments of silence, Hermione cleared her throat.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Draco nodded, trying not to lean into her petting fingers too much. Now he knew why that awful Crookshanks beast purred so loudly when Hermione petted it. The feeling was addicting and soothing.

"We talked about my… type. I was wondering, will you tell me yours?" Hermione was cursing her runaway mouth. How could she just ask that? His mother was in a coma for Merlin's sake! And whatever he wasn't telling her about why Narcissa was unconscious was bound to be a hundred times worse than the current situation. And yet, there she was, asking him about what he looks for in a girl. She could just die from embarrassment.

"Well, for starters, she has to be smart. Not just intelligent, but brilliant. Quick wit, strong sense of morals, loyal." Draco concentrated his gaze, looking straight into Hermione's eyes, hypnotizing her. Her fingers stopped moving, her breathing shallowed and she did not dare to blink, afraid to break the spell. "She needs to have her own habits, but support my flying, help me with my studies and put up with me rolling in my sleep."

"And can't scream when she sees your hair first thing in the morning." Her fingers moved again, laying his hair smooth before moving from his head.

"That is a small plus. I'll also accept small laughter at the beginning." Watching her, he saw her bite the inside of her lip, gnawing on it as the gears turned in her head. "Sound like anyone familiar?"

"Huh?" She blinked, surfacing from her thoughts. "Yeah… no… What was the question?"

"I asked if my type sounded like anyone." He shifted closer to her, his knee bumping hers.

"Perhaps. What about the deal breaker? There's always something that is a complete 'no-go' sign. What's yours?" She hadn't moved away from him, that was a good sign.

"I don't know."

Honesty. He was not accustomed to the taste of it in his mouth. But it came naturally when talking with the beautiful girl beside him. She really was a brilliant witch if she could charm him without a spell.

"I'm a romantic." He explained. "I hope to find the perfect girl so I am never forced to find out my deal breaker."

"A romantic, huh?" Hermione leaned into the back of the couch, curling her feet up beneath her. "How do you feel about star-crossed lovers?"

"As long as they never betray each other, or their feelings, then even death will not sully their love." Draco knew the answer to that one. He had spent all afternoon contemplating the intricacies of dating someone from the other side of the line.

"That's… a good answer." Hermione murmured to herself. There was no way she was going to sort out her feelings that night. Anything she did would be rash, illogical, sloppy. She had to be absolutely sure that she could try, to not back out at the first sign of resistance. When she looked up, not having noticed that her gaze had wandered, she saw Draco's soft look on her.

"You look tired. Maybe you should go to bed, Hermione." His long fingers brushed along her cheek and pushed her hair behind her ear. The simple touch made Hermione's heart skip. It was one thing to wake up and find someone using you like a stuffed teddy bear in their sleep. It was a completely different matter to see a fully aware man leaning in to touch her in an oddly affectionate manner. "I'll see you in the morning."

About to complain, Hermione found herself getting shooed of the couch and up the stairs.

"Will you be alright?" Hermione was referencing his sadder emotions. Staring into fire elicits unwanted emotions sometimes.

"I'll be fine. I'm getting sleepy too, so I'm going to bed soon." Draco saw her careful nod and then her back disappearing up the steps.

"Good night, Draco. Try to sleep well." Hermione was on the small balcony ledge at the top of the stairs peering down at him.

"Good night, Hermione."

Hermione couldn't get comfortable.

Her bed was too soft, too hard. Her blankets were too heavy, too light. Her room was too dark, too bright. No matter what she did, she could not settle down. Her mind was whirling so much that she could not fully grasp any one idea before five others crammed into her mind.

She spent hours trying to even out her breathing and focusing on organizing her emotions and thoughts. The fire died down, her room darkened and bit with cold. She pulled up her blankets over her head and closed her eyes.

"One…two…three…four…"

She concentrated, trying to block out enough of her thoughts so she would have a clean area to think.

Then, all she felt was loneliness.

Her best friends were out in the world, fighting for their freedom. She had sent her parents away. Hogwarts was now the only place she could call home.

And now, alone in her room, alone in her bed, she couldn't even think. Her mind, so assaulted by thoughts was suddenly void of everything. Her mind couldn't tell her what she wanted. Or what she needed. But her body knew.

Her body wanted to feel that awkward weight on her waist, the heat from someone else. Her ears wanted to hear two heartbeats, two sets of breathing. Her eyes wanted to see him.

Her body sat up. Hermione moved without knowing. Vaguely, her eyes registered the sun peeking out over the horizon. Somehow she had survived the night.

Knocking on the door seemed to wake up both Hermione and Draco. When had she left her room?

"Come in." Draco's voice was muffled through the door. When she swung the door open, she couldn't see him. The bed was completely flat, clean, untouched. Her eyes shifted to the chair by the fireplace where a mass of blankets was huddled.

"You okay?" Hermione stepped in tentatively. Now that her body had dragged her there, her mind was scrambling for coherent thoughts on what she should do.

"Couldn't sleep in my bed." Draco's head was barely visible in the blanket. His eyes and nose were the only thing Hermione could see clearly. It definitely explained the muffled tones of his voice. "Are you okay, Hermione?"

"Ah…" Hermione fumbled. She wasn't really sure. When was the last time she was 'okay?' "I'm not entirely sure."

"Come here." Draco shifted, giving her room to squeeze into the chair with him. She sat and he wrapped her up in the blanket with him.

Bliss seeped into her skin like she was soaking in summer sun. She snuggled her head into his shoulder, trying to get even more comfortable.

"Better?"

"Much."

As the sun rose slowly into the sky, the two students dozed in each others' arms; finally able to rest peacefully. It might have been odd, finding solace in someone they spent the better part of their school years hating, but it seemed right.

"Hey, Draco?" Hermione murmured after a long while.

"Yes?"

"Can I be your love?"

"Hermione?" Draco opened the door to their common room. "I'm home."

The Head Girl rushed down the stairs.

"Thank Merlin, you're back!" She threw a pile of papers into his hands, not even properly greeting him. "We have a meeting with Professor McGonagall in fifteen minutes."

Rushing around, Hermione shoved her notebook and a pen into her bag before grabbing up a armful of parchment rolls.

"How was your mother?" So, she did remember that he had gotten time to visit his mother at the hospital. She had woken up earlier that week, but the weekend was the first free moment Draco had to see her.

"She's better. The doctors are hopeful that she will regain all of her memories." Narcissa had several blank spots regarding the cause of her coma, but the doctors were helping her sort through the chaos in her mind.

"I'm glad. I was worried about you two." Hermione checked the room one last time before stepping toward the door. The door that Draco was blocking.

"Really? You were worried?" Draco raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

"Yes, I was. Now, we're going to be late." Hermione tried to sidestep him, but he continued to block the door.

"How worried?"

"Oh, come here." Hermione put her things down and grabbed the front of his robes. With a forceful tug, she brought his face to her level and she pressed her lips to his. She felt his smirk on her lips and mentally rolled her eyes.

"Not that worried, I can tell." Draco whispered into her ear as he pulled away from the kiss. The exasperated sigh made him chuckle.

"Well, I'm not about to be passionately worried if your mother is okay." Hermione tried to duck away from him.

"I missed you." Draco successfully intercepted her and swept her away from her papers. His arms trapped her in a warm embrace as he nuzzled his nose in the curve of her neck. "I missed you a lot."

"Really, now?" Pulling her head back, she got Draco to look at her face again. "How much did you miss me?"

"This much." His lips and breath were hot as he took her mouth, soft and passionate he made her breath catch and her knees weak. Fingers wound into the hair at the base of her head and pulled lightly, her head fell back so he could kiss her again.

"Draco?" He pulled back, taking in the calm rapture in Hermione's eyes.

"Yes, Hermione?"

"I'm glad you said 'yes.'"

"Me too."

THE END.

Author's Notes: This is IT. The curtain. The fat lady singing. No more of this. I had no idea where this was going when I started 6 years ago. And well, this is where I'm ending it!

I hope you enjoyed it for what it's worth.

I'm not sure when I went from Draco wanting to say "Can I be your Love?" to Hermione saying it. But it wanted to happen. So here it is. I know it turned out to be much more dark emotional angsty weirdness than fluffy romance… but HEY, romance that isn't confusing doesn't really belong in the romance section of a bookstore.

ANYWAY. That's it. "Can I be your Love?" is now officially over. I've finished crying over writing it.

PLEASE review if you liked it. I like smiley faces. They're like sunshine on a rainy day. Love to all my readers, you keep me writing.