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Draco tried her flat, her bookstore, every book store in town, Diagon Alley. He even tried Hogsmeade. Hermione was nowhere to be found. He had sent her five owls, all of which had returned thoroughly disgruntled. She had spent a year hiding from the dark lord, he didn't stand a chance finding her if she didn't want to be found, but he would be damned if he let her get away. That left one option. Potter and Weasley. If anyone knew where she took off, it would be them.
He apparated to Potter's front door. It was a small cottage out in the middle of nowhere. Draco supposed Potter appreciated his privacy after growing up in the spotlight. Draco was surprised he managed to find it at all. Was he really about to ask Potter for help? Yes. Yes he was because he was going to find Hermione and snog the hell out of her for being so damn ornery. He quickly discarded what remained of his pride and knocked on the door.
It would be his luck that Weasley would pick today of all days to visit Potter. It wasn't enough to ask Potter for help, but the red headed git had to witness it as well.
Weasley slowly grinned, his teeth too big for his mouth. "Bloody hell, what are you doing here?"
"Is Potter here?"
Sure enough, Potter swaggered to the door. His black hair was as messy as ever. Even after Hogwarts, the poor man hadn't managed to find a decent comb.
"Malfoy," he nodded.
"Potter," Draco managed not to sneer at him.
"Why are you here?"
"I need to find Hermione."
"I reckon if Hermione wanted you to find her, you would."
"I suppose that would make things easier. However it doesn't change the fact that I am still looking for her."
Potter waved him in. "Can I grab you a beer or something?"
Draco nodded as he took a seat on the couch. Harry's house was surprisingly neat. It was sparsely decorated with only a few small photos hanging on the wall. The living room opened up to a wooden patio. There was a strange array of muggle and magical objects, many of which he couldn't identify.
Potter was strangely silent as he handed him a beer. He took a tentative sip. He wasn't thirsty, but he didn't want to appear rude. He fidgeted silently, waiting for Potter to either kick him out or help him.
"Wow," Potter murmured.
"Care to elaborate on that observation?"
"You have been here ten minutes and haven't made one rude comment. Either you are no longer a pompus git or you really are in love with her."
Draco counted to ten, reminded himself that Azkaban jumpsuits weren't flattering, then spoke. "Are you going to help me or not?"
"Hold on," Potter grinned. "I have to bask in this moment. The Draco –silver spoon up my ass- Malfoy is here, asking me for help."
Weasley snickered in the background. "I don't know. Knowing Hermione, she's already made him jump through hoops."
Draco tapped his fingers against his beer. How did Hermione deal with these gits days in and out. He was about to say damn their help, he would find what he wanted without them.
"I know where Hermione is," Potter admitted.
"Are you going to tell me?"
"It depends. I want to hear you say it." Potter mused.
"What? That sun shines eternally out of your chosen one's ass and that I am consumed with gratitude for you slaying the fearsome dark lord?" The words were out of his mouth, before he could think better of it. Luckily Potter laughed.
"And there is the Malfoy we all know and hate. No I want to hear you admit how you feel about her. Hermione is amazing and deserves to be happy. I won't let you fuck that up."
"If I didn't love her, do you really think I would be here asking for your help? She has changed. I have changed. I lied to her, deceived her, and believe me that was the stupidest thing I have ever done. She is the most brilliant, kindest person I know. Why she would spare me a second glance, I will never know, but I am grateful for every second. She- I can't even begin to describe how she makes me feel. It's like my whole world gets turned inside out and she is the only part I can focus on, like if I let go, the rest will fade away. She's the first thing I think of, and the last thing I picture before I fall asleep. If that's not love I don't know what is."
"Is that really how you feel?" A small voice whispered behind.
He spun around. Hermione was standing in the doorway. He couldn't get to her fast enough. One hand tangled in her hair, the other grabbed her waist and he kissed her. He poured every bit of worry, happiness, irritation, lust and pure need into that kiss. And when she kissed him back it was like the very heavens opened up.