Part IX

New people, wrecked friendships, and one break up later, here I am. So sorry for the delay, I have no excuses. Thank you for all the support for this shitty story of mine so far 3 I love you all.


After almost a fortnight of not seeing him, it was rather easy to pick out the changes in Draco's appearance. He had a bit of stubble marring his chin which wouldn't have stood out on a person like Ron, but Draco was always clean shaven. That, and he seemed to have lost another couple of pounds, or he was wearing too much black.

I shifted the groceries I was carrying onto my other arm. He was standing in front of my building, hands resting inside his pockets, looking up at the haggard establishment. All sharp angles and frowns.

Not knowing what to make of this, or the growing trepidation inside my chest, I cleared my throat. The sound was loud, carrying across the deserted streets and his gaze snapped to face me. The evening sun was fast receding and the light played with his flaxen hair.

My feet seemed to have forgotten how to walk as I tottered towards him. My first instinct was to pull him into an embrace and ask him how he was, but seeing how asinine that was, I settled for a simple hello. Words unspoken.

"You've put in new wards," he commented, nodding towards me, but he could have countered my protective spells if he wanted to.

"Security spell," I murmured. "Are you coming in?" I didn't dare look at his face when I said this; instead I focused on lifting the protective spell. He did not answer, but I heard the shuffling of his footsteps as he followed, and shut the door behind us.

I strode into my little kitchenette and set about removing the things I purchased from the bags. I didn't know how to go about speaking to him, or what to even say, considering what had transpired the last time he was here.

"Are you hungry? I was thinking of fixing something, maybe roast, I'm not sure yet," the words were flowing out of my mouth before I could stop them. I wasn't asking him the things I actually wanted to know –about Skeeter's article, Astoria, and why he looked so gaunt.

"Granger-," he started to say, and perhaps I would have seen the weariness on his face if I could have mustered the courage to look.

"Mrs. Weasley gave me this recipe, perhaps that," I opened a cupboard and rummaged through the pans, trying to find one big enough. Anything to distract myself.

"Granger-," he spoke again.

"It might not taste as good as hers though, but I might as well try any-,"

Letting out an exasperated sigh, he grasped both my arms, and turned me around to face him. I let my gaze slide towards the wall behind him.

"Look at me," the actual words were commanding, but the way he uttered them was not. He just sounded tired. I did not comply.

His grasp loosened, and his hands slid down to my wrists. I could feel the fingers shaking. His guard was down completely, and for the first time since I had known him, I wasn't happy about it.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" Ah, there it was. Hermione. I would have laughed if the situation was different.

"I should be asking you that," I answered quietly. "You look exhausted."

I could hear the amusement in his voice –not obvious, but still there. "How would you know that when you aren't even looking at me?"

I tried to pull away, murmuring an excuse that I had to get dinner started, but he wouldn't have that.

I felt him sigh as he shifted. The familiar scent of cologne mixed with fabric softener pervaded my nostrils.

"Listen, I know I haven't been here for a while. It's just that I've had a lot of matters to attend to, with what-,"

I didn't know what made me do it, but I met his gaze. "You don't have to explain yourself to me," the words came out sharper than I had intended them to. It it was fascinating to see how his expression changed –apologetic, shocked, and then indignant.

His tone was cross. "I was trying to apologize."

"For what?" I found myself firing back, pulling away from him now that he had let go of me. It was as if everything that had been eating at me was escaping.

"For not being here? You don't have to apologize. After all, I'm just a convenience, aren't I? Here until you get bored of me, or you find someone else. Which I suppose you have now."

It felt like I wasn't the one speaking –like I was having an out-of-body experience and was watching someone who looked like me say it. This Hermione didn't look angry at all. In fact, she looked rather calm, and resigned.

"Granger, what-," his eyes were wide, and he looked more confused than I had ever seen him before.

"Let me finish. I don't understand you, Malfoy. You drag me this way and that until I don't even know where I stand in your life anymore, or if I even have a place in it. And imagine my surprise when I read that article by that blasted Skeeter woman. You didn't tell me a word about Astoria. You never tell me anything. What am I, Draco? To you? What am I?"

It all came out in a rush, and a second after I said it, it felt good to let everything out. But as time ticked by, and Draco was still staring at me, alarmed, the regret started to blossom.

"Well?" I persisted, afraid of what he would say, but I would have it out, and I would have it out now.

Draco looked like a deer in headlights, and at any other time, it might have been funny. His eyes had grown wider, and he was at a loss for words. One of his hands flew to his hair, and raked through his platinum locks, and I half-expected some of it to come off the way he was tugging at it.

"I...well…of course you aren't a bloody convenience," he paused, biting his bottom lip. "I do care about you. Obviously. But-,"

If the beginning of his statement had given me any hope, it flickered out at the end.

"But?"

He edged closer to me once more, and his hands lifted, but he must have thought twice about it, because they fell to his sides once again.

"But I don't know. Look at me Hermione, I'm a mess," his voice sounded strained and throaty, quite unlike him. I knew that at any other time, he would never say something like this, and expression on his face was shattering. Lost. Guilt rose up inside of me –he had grown thinner, and looked more worn that I had ever seen him.

"And now, look at yourself," his voice broke off into a high little laugh at the end of the sentence. "You're everything I could never be, and look what I've already done to you."

I could feel a lump rising steadily in my throat and my vision getting misty. It was all I could do not to wrap my arms around him, as if the act would piece him back together. I had only been thinking about myself, and meanwhile, Draco, my Draco –no, of course he could never be mine—was breaking.

He was unraveling, like me. He had started now, and he wouldn't stop.

"I've been hurting you, I know, and I'm sorry. I thought me staying away would help, but it seems like I'm the one who keeps coming back," that laugh again. I didn't like it. It sounded wrong.

"Draco-,"

He pressed a finger to my lips. "Let me finish or I don't know when I'll have bloody courage to get this out again. No wonder I wasn't sorted into Gryffindor."

"Look at yourself," that again. "You're brilliant, Hermione. Bloody wonderful. You deserve more than me," a slight smile here. I let my fingers clutch the hem of my shirt, the alternative being digging them into my palms.

I opened my mouth to retort, but I couldn't form my jumble of thoughts into coherent sentences. I knew what he was saying without him having to say it—"I can't be who you want me to."

Hesitating a second, he moved closer, and planted his lips to the top of my forehead. They were cold, and a bit chapped, but soft. I could feel my heart thudding painfully in my chest; I had waited so long for him to do that, but had never imagined it would turn out like this.

"So this is it?" I breathed out. Was it all ending, just like that? Was there anything to end in the first place?

"I'm sorry, Hermione –damn it all, I've been saying that too much." He pulled away, and I found myself already missing him, despite the fact that he was still standing across from me.

I heard the shuffling of his cloak as he pulled his wand out –he was going to apparate. He was going to leave.

"I'll be seeing you," a rueful smile.

It wasn't until he was gone, and I had sunk to my knees that I said what I should have said to him–"but I need you."


I honestly have no bloody idea what this is. I'm so sorry if it sucks, which it does. Immensely. I'll shut up now. Also, ya'll should listen to Slide Away by Oasis –it's the song I listened to while writing the end of this chapter. Hopefully, it wasn't /too/ OOC. I've edited a few times, but excuse any lingering mistakes. Um, review? ^^"