Chapter Fourteen
The After Effects

She had tried not to slam the door, but Hermione couldn't help it. In a way she was aggravated at Ian for just assuming things and pushing her. It was one thing to do something she didn't like, but when someone kept pushing her, she felt that it was crossing the line.

Hermione walked down the hall slowly towards the elevator because she didn't know what to do at that point. There was no way she could return to her flat right away in fear that Ian would sooner or later show up. But where would she go?

Absentmindedly, her feet led the way, one in front of the other, but instead of leading her to the elevator, she ended up in front of the stairwell.

It had a very eerie feeling, but Hermione wasn't paying any attention.

Without realizing that she would have to descend seven floors worth of steps, Hermione held her glass shoes loosely in her hand as she started off down the stairs. Every few steps, they would clank together and sometimes tap lightly against the cold railing. Besides the slippers, Hermione held onto her small clutch by the small handle, distractedly swinging it.

She had no idea how long it had taken her, but Hermione had finally reached the main floor. Through the glass front doors she noticed the outside city lights and then started walking towards them. But before she made it to the doors, her eyes fell upon the remains of the gala on her right.

It felt weird… having just celebrated something tremendous yet wonderful in her life and having it turn out to be one of the most amazing nights in her life, then instantly having it do a 180 degree turn and have every feeling gone and replaced with… sadness. It was hard for her to explain.

Hermione had thought that everyone had left the party and gone home, but what she didn't notice were the last few stragglers as she headed straight towards the bar.

"Is everything put away?" she asked to the bartender closest to her.

"I still have some bottles leftover if what you're looking for is a drink," he said, setting down the napkins he had been carrying over from the tables. He would have summoned them, but they weren't supposed to risk it with all the glass and fragile things around.

"I'd like a shot of the strongest firewhiskey you have," Hermione replied boldly, taking a seat on a barstool. She ruffled her dress up so it wouldn't stretch as she sat there and then set her small clutch and glass slippers on the counter as if all her manners were gone.

He grabbed a shot glass and filled it to the rim with the clear liquid, instantly knowing someone was going to have an even longer night.

"Cheers," Hermione said, gently waving the glass towards the barman's way. In one quick motion, she put the cold glass to her lips and tilted her head back, instantly feeling the sharp burn in her throat. She gasped roughly and slammed the glass down on the countertop, but not hard enough to break it.

"Give me another," she demanded, without any harshness in her voice, of course.

"You're not apparating home are you?" the man asked, apparent nervousness on his features. "I wouldn't want you to end up splinched."

"Don't worry. I'm not going home anyway." She pushed the glass closer to the man, indicating that she wanted that firewhiskey and wouldn't leave until she got it.

Like the good worker that he was, he refilled the shot glass with the same liquor, being careful as to not let it overflow.

"Here's to men who think only of themselves," she cheered daringly, ignoring the slight pang in her head. Following her same actions from before, Hermione tilted her head back as she quickly swallowed the liquid.

With a quick nod towards the bartender, her shot glass was refilled once again.

"And this is to men who can't take a hint." Hermione once again downed the fiery liquid from her glass.

Before she could ask the man in front of her to refill the glass, Draco sat down on the seat right next to her.

"Don't you think you're overdoing it a bit?" he asked, a little more upset than he should have been.

"Give me one good reason as to why I should stop, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, pushing the shot glass towards the barman once again.

"I can give you more than one if you would like," he replied more smugly that time.

Hermione was thoroughly annoyed at that point and having him sit there and judge her just happened to make matters worse. She swallowed yet another glass of firewhiskey, making it her fourth that night.

"Why do you always happen to show up at the most inconvenient times?" she asked him without even turning around to face him.

"The way I see it, Granger," he began, putting emphasis on her last name as well, "this happens to be a very convenient time as you're completely smashed up and would be even more so if I don't stop you." He then turned to the bartender and told him to cut her off and yelled at how he should have known better than to continue serving her.

Hermione was in fact smashed up. She could feel the pang in her head getting worse and when she turned her head, everything seemed to move in slow motion and act delayed. Now she knew what Malfoy had meant by 'more than one' reason because she felt worse than she did more than five months ago on that beach.

And just thinking about that whole completely fucked up situation made the liquid in her stomach roll around and not settle right.

"Are you okay, Hermione?" Draco asked, softly rubbing her back trying to soothe her.

She didn't quite hear him and she played with a diamond on her dress trying her hardest to ignore the feeling of nausea.

"Please, I need another glass," she responded gently.

"No, I am getting you out of here," Draco said sternly.

Ignoring his response, Hermione stood up and reached over the counter, grabbing the bottle of her desired liquor that the bartender had dumbly left. She put the bottle to her lips and titled her head back forcefully, taking large gulps. Unfortunately—for her—Draco had grabbed the bottle and ripped it out of her hands, resulting in her taking only two gulps. But that's an understatement seeing as how that equals to about seven shots of the strongest alcohol.

"Hermione!" she heard Draco scream, instantly causing a headache to appear. "Are you insane? Wait, don't answer that question."

Without waiting to hear a reply from her, Draco grabbed her clutch and slippers from the counter with his left hand and then Hermione with his right arm, pulling her up to rest on his shoulder. After throwing a scowl in the direction of the bartender, he stormed out of the hotel.

He didn't want to apparate anywhere with her, afraid that something might get splinched. It was an added bonus that he didn't live far away because he lived close to the Ministry, so it wouldn't be a long walk. The only thing he could think of at that moment was getting that woman he loved somewhere safe.

Draco was glad she wasn't putting up a fight.

XXX

Waking up to a bright light of sunshine in her face was definitely not how Hermione imagined waking up. Actually, as she thought about it, she had never woken up to sun in her face because her window was not at the right angle for the sun to shine in.

She opened her eyes only to recognize there was a massive pounding in her head. It hurt worse than she ever remembered and therefore began to wonder how and why it had appeared.

Feeling around on the nightstand for her alarm clock to see what time it was, she finally noticed something was wrong. First of all, her clock was not where it was supposed to be and her stuff was always where they were supposed to be. Second, the surface of the stand was way too slick to be hers and felt as if there were at least four layers of lacquer on it.

Hermione swiftly sat up in the bed, only resulting in making her headache worse.

Characteristically, she started to panic when she noticed that she was dressed in an oversized button-up shirt and that the bed she was lying in was definitely not one she recognized.

Slowly, the memories of the night before rushed to her and automatically assumed she was at Draco's place. It kind of surprised her because she had never been there before. However, she was indeed very thankful that she was in bed by herself.

Trying her hardest to ignore the pounding headache, Hermione got out of the bed and walked towards the door she assumed would lead her out of the room. Instead, she found herself in a huge bathroom.

She didn't want to take in all the details at that moment, so she took one look at herself in the mirror and instantly became disgusted. Eyeliner was smudged all underneath her eyes, giving the impression she had been crying for hours before falling sleep. Her hair was still let down, but the soft waves were now gone and frizz had taken its place.

Realizing she didn't have her wand, Hermione let the sink run so she could wipe the smudges away and try to get her hair up in a knot without so much mess in it.

When she was satisfied, Hermione walked back into the room, only to open the other door she had seen.

The second the door had opened, Hermione caught a wonderful smell of breakfast lingering throughout the house. The problem was she didn't know how to make her way around the place and it only made matters worse that it seemed to be pretty big.

Hoping it would work, Hermione yelled out, "Draco!" despite her headache.

Not even two seconds later, she saw Draco walk towards her pretty quickly.

"Sorry, I put a charm on the door so that when you got out of the room it would let me know. It just took me a bit," he spit out swiftly.

When she didn't say anything, he continued, "I've made breakfast."

"It smells wonderful," Hermione replied, taking his hand in hers, wanting him to lead her downstairs to it.

"I was going to bring it up to you so you could eat in bed. Do you want to wait here a few minutes?" he asked, hoping he could treat her to something special after the night she had yesterday.

She simply nodded her head and turned back around to lie down in the comfortable bed. Her eyes were closed when he went into the room no more than five minutes later. When she opened them, she saw French toast—he remembered they were her favorite, scrambled eggs, whole wheat toast with honey, and orange juice.

"Here," Draco began, holding out a mug of what Hermione assumed to be coffee, "this should take care of the hangover." She took it from him and made a disgusted face when she tasted it. "It's not the best, but I've learned it works better than a spell."

Trying to keep in mind that Hermione was in Gryffindor, she swallowed all of the contents in the mug, never questioning what was in it.

"Merlin, that was awful," she exclaimed, reaching for a sip of orange juice to get rid of the taste. "Are you going to eat any?" Hermione asked Draco, not wanting to make him feel like she was taking advantage of him.

"I guess I can eat in bed with you," he replied smugly, summoning some food from the kitchen.

"Be honest," Hermione started after swallowing a forkful of eggs, "did you cook this or did you have your loads of house elves do it."

He looked at her jokingly and said, "me? Have house elves? Ha!" When she just looked at him sternly, he said, "I cooked all of it. No house elves here."

After Hermione thanked Draco for breakfast and he sent everything back into the kitchen, she sat there still on top of the bed, not wanting to look towards him. She was ashamed of everything that had happened the night before.

"Draco, about last night…"

"There's no need to apologize," he said, worried she would start crying all over him again. Damn, he loved the woman and all, but when she started the water works, it was hard to get her to stop.

"Yes, there is. I know I was upset, but it was no reason to get all smashed and have you carry me away like."

"What can I say; I'm your knight in shining armor."

"I'm also sorry about spilling my sob story all over you. You shouldn't have been subjected to my emotional breakdowns, especially after you offered to keep me safe here and give me your bed to sleep in."

"It's all right, Hermione." He just didn't want her to keep on going and mention the one thing he didn't want brought up. Even if she was done with Ian.

"But I'm also sorry about kissing you in my drunken state."

She finally looked at him with fear in her eyes. There was no need for fear, particularly since she was with someone who cared about her deeply, even though Hermione wouldn't admit that she knew it out loud.

"Just shut up before I kiss you again," Draco said with no venom in his voice.

Hermione blushed, but still said, "then just do it already."

And when their lips touched, he wanted to deepen it, to touch her everywhere and revel in the softness of her skin. But he couldn't, so he pulled away breathlessly.

"Before we continue anything, I have to show you something," he said, regret somehow overcoming him.

"Alright," Hermione replied even though she had to admit she was confused.

Still clad in only the button-up shirt Draco had let her borrow, Hermione followed him out of the room, hand in hand, to an office down the hall. He had not let her hand go when he opened up a drawer in the desk and pulled out a small box. Hermione was still confused when he handed it to her.

"What's this?" she asked, letting go of his hand and feeling a sudden loss of warmth.

"You're going to have to open it."

"Draco, tell me what this is right now!" she spat, not wanting to play any games.

"I won't tell you," he replied as if it didn't matter to him, "but curiosity will kill you if you don't open it."

And of course, he was right, always having known that she was as curious as a mouse.

Inside was a diamond ring and it only seemed to shock her—as was evident on her face—as Hermione pulled it out. It was a very simple ring, three diamonds with the one in the center being the slightest bit bigger than the other two, set in white gold.

"Who is this for?" she asked, apparently still confused—but anger very evident in her voice—as to why he could possibly be showing her a ring meant for an engagement. She thought it was meant to be rubbed in her face.

"How dare you!" she yelled, immensely angry as to why he would play such a cruel joke on her, acting as if he didn't know what happened between her and Ian. She had spilled it all out with those seven shots of firewhiskey still fresh in her system.

"No, Hermione," he began with recognition on his face, "you don't unders—"

"Don't!" Hermione cut him off. "You know very well how hard of a time I've been having lately," she yelled even fiercer, her anger rising. "For more than five months, I've been grieving terribly over you as if I had lost my best friend," she admitted. "And to be honest I did! Then the whole affair with Todd happened and you can't even begin to imagine how much worse it got for me."

"But you—" he tried, but was cut off again by Hermione. It didn't go unnoticed, though, that he stood there calmly and didn't even sigh.

"No! Let me talk!" she demanded aggressively. "When I met Ian, I finally thought that he could be my salvation, a break from all the pain I felt on a daily basis. For a while, it worked. But not after long, I felt the ache again. Every time, Draco… every time he said he loved me, I imagined it was you. Can you even imagine how terrible I felt?"

"And how do you think I felt, knowing you were wrapped up with him?" he asked back.

She was getting more aggravated by the second, so she closed her eyes, took in a huge breath, and relaxed her shoulders. When she spoke again, her voice was calmer.

"Every time he touched me, I longed for your hands. Whenever he said my name, Draco, I imagined you saying it instead. Just visualize for one second how awful he would've felt if he knew that every single time we had sex, I closed my eyes because I wanted to see your face instead.

"You have been my plague for almost half a year and it's a nightmare having to live with your curse. Last night, when we finally talked like there was no animosity between us, my heart felt right again. As sappy as this is and against my tendencies, I finally had a missing piece back. When you kissed me on that dance floor, I never wanted it to end, no matter who was watching."

She sighed, suddenly feeling tired of keeping her feelings tucked away inside. Hermione didn't know why she was spilling her heart out to him, but in some way it was comforting.

"To be honest, last night I didn't drink to the point of being pissed because of Ian. I drank to finally get rid of that disease in my veins and to wash away any guilt I had. Just the fact of knowing that I had used a man had eaten away at my soul. I drank, because for one of the few times in my life, I didn't know what to do.

"I had two men who admitted their love for me, but one had pushed me too far. There was no way I could instantly go running to you, that would be an even worse jab at me with guilt.

"Regret is something I had vowed I would never feel. But now it's the strongest emotion I've been carrying around with me."

Draco waited for a while, until he was positive she was done with her heartbreaking speech.

"That ring is for you…" he finally said like it was the most obvious thing on the planet. "Well, it was for you."

When she didn't say anything and kept on staring at the ring, he continued.

"I know it's a sore subject… but that night on the beach when I left you, I had told you I was going to meet with a co-worker from the lab." He struggled to keep going as he acted so ruffled and was playing with his hands. "I lied, Hermione, and I hate admitting that, especially after what happened. I didn't leave you to meet someone, but I left you to pick that up," he said pointing at the ring.

"Why?" Hermione asked solemnly, taking a seat on a chair because she was beginning to feel faint.

"Because, Hermione, I loved you. I still love you." He paused to look at the revelation on her face. It had hurt him to say that he had never loved her all those months ago. He had never given her a chance and now he had his own regrets.

"I was going to give it you on New Year's right after midnight hit, but the ring wasn't ready yet. The man at the shop said he would leave it for me, but that it wouldn't be ready until after midnight because he would drop it off when he walked by the shop to get to the beach. I promise you, I never wanted to leave you."

He noticed how shiny Hermione's eye became, even though she was not looking directly towards him. Draco had never hated himself more than he did at that moment.

"I'm sorry Hermione, but it's still hard for me to not let my anger overtake me. Please forgive me?" he asked not sure what she would say or even if she would talk at all.

A tear finally escaped from her eye and fell slowly down her cheek, but she would not let his words get to her.

"I don't know if I can do that, Draco. You hurt me so much and you never let me explain anything. You just ended everything right at that moment without trying to work it out. How can I believe that you love me, or even had loved me, if you weren't willing to work it out?"

"Trust me, I do love you. I was just… guarded because of what happened. I was so consumed by rage that I was convinced you do it on purpose. I'm truly sorry."

Hermione had never seen Draco so genuine and sincere that her heart was literally breaking for him. How was she able to trust him again without having things go wrong? Was it safe for her to open her heart out again?

"I still want to marry you someday, Hermione, but only when we're ready for it and I'm hoping that we can start over because my life is hell without you."

And then she kissed him, not caring anymore. The past had been forgiven and forgotten and all she wanted now was the future.

AN: Sorry, sorry, sorry, that it has taken me forever to get this out. I've been in Brasil now for more than month, and I had surgery a week ago. Don't worry, my recovery is going excellent and everyone keeps telling me that I'm doing better than most people. But now I'm going to try and write a little everyday, 'cause I can't sit still for very long. I'm working on a few things, so hopefully they'll be out soon.

AN2: I'm thinking about maybe two or three chapters left of Unwritten Words. And there will be a surprise at the end! Well sort of.

AN3: Thank you so much to my beta, TabiPrewett, for all the help!