Chapter Fourteen
Completely and Utterly

Once at the little corner cafe they decided to stop in, Hermione knew something was up with Draco. He kept opening his mouth like he was about to say something before snapping it shut again. Halfway through their meal, she couldn't take it anymore.

"What? You're obviously trying to say something. What is it?"

Draco eyed her uncertainly, sighing as he set down his knife and fork. "Does Potter know where you are? Who you're with?"

"I-what?"

"Potter. The Weasel. You haven't mentioned either of them once in, what's it been? Two months?"

"Three. The month before you showed up, too. I left as soon as I could get away after...George and Ginny were the only ones who knew I was leaving. I didn't tell Ron or Harry then and I still haven't now."

"Why not?"

"What do you care? You hate them," she snapped defensively, knowing that the way she left them behind was more than selfish.

"I know, but they are/were your best friends. I guess I figured you were in constant contact for a year that you might've told them you were leaving or where you were going."

"I couldn't. If they had known, they would have tried to stop me. And they would have succeeded. I know it's selfish, but I had to get away from all of it."

"Because you thought I was dead?"

Hermione didn't answer right away. Finally, she sighed and said, "Yes…and no. Obviously thinking you were dead left me…I don't even want to think about it. But regardless, I would have done the same, I think."

"Really?" There was no judgement, just simple curiosity.

"Yes. I remember standing in the Great Hall and just-just wanting it all to end. There were so many bodies. People I've known for what feels like forever. The castle that had been my beloved home was practically reduced to rubble. And I realized, seeing the destruction around me, the castle in ruins-it was nothing compared to what I felt like the war had done to me," Hermione explained slowly.

Draco, understanding that his curious inquiry had led to a darker place than he'd ever imagined, rose from his seat across from her and settled in beside her. She curled up against him, and he wrapped an arm around her.

"I knew I couldn't stay," she continued, "because I knew that there would be no getting over you. Not any time soon, anyway. And, selfishly, all I could think, while surrounded by my suffering friends, was that none of them could ever understand. I mean, they'd all just lost someone, too, but the difference was that no one knew that I had lost you. I knew I wouldn't be able to hide it. How are you meant to grieve for someone if nobody had any idea you had a reason to mourn them in the first place?"

He realized after a few moments passed in silence that her question wasn't rhetorical. "I-I don't know."

"It was hard enough pretending to hate you all those years. And my year on the run with Harry and Ron and not a word from you…I thought that was hell. But it was nothing compared to realizing that no one would understand the real reason I was inconsolable that night. And everything just hit me at once. Giving up my parents, being on the run, being tort-" She cut herself off and Draco pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "And I just couldn't handle it. I pretended for years that I wasn't absolutely terrified and I felt it all that night when I thought you were gone."

"Hermione, I'm so sorry you had to deal with all that yourself," Draco murmured mournfully, yet again amazed by the strength of the witch, knowing that she had continued to go on.

"I wasn't alone, but I felt I was. I shouldn't have, surrounded by Harry and the Weasley's and Neville and Luna and the whole lot of them, but I did. You stupid git!" she exclaimed suddenly as she pulled herself away from him. His bewildered expression drew a laugh out of her. "When did you start to mean so much to me? You utterly ruined me!"

Hermione watched in fascination as the dark charcoal eyes softened to a molten silver. He captured her smile with his lips. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers. "I don't know, but I've adored you since I was 15."

"You sappy git," Hermione teased warmly. She stole a kiss herself before picking at her plate again. "I haven't a clue why I thought going to my family's reunion was a good idea. I needed some comfort and I went to a place with nothing but criticism. I mean, Uncle Amos and his family are wonderful. That was good for me. I ignored them for two years hoping it would keep them safe. It felt good to know they still love me. The rest of them, however…"

Draco grinned and finished her sentence. "Are very fond of young, blonde strangers bursting through the door demanding for Granger who then stay for dinner?"

"Terribly fond, yes. It's a yearly occurrence, you know?" Hermione's honey brown eyes twinkled and he was lost to them. "Anyway, it was a good thing you found me before I left for Australia. I'm not sure I would have had the strength to keep positive alone."

"So, I'm not just the money?" She rolled her eyes at his cheeky grin but couldn't bite back a smile. That day in the airport when he told her to worry about nothing but finding her parents was a fond memory. "No, not just the money."

Despite loving the look she was giving him, he refused to let her distract him further from his original question. "Are you ever going to talk to them?"

She scooted away from him, frustrated that he saw through her. He kissed the back of her neck as she hung her head. "They're your best mates. You know I don't like them very much, but they do mean a lot to you."

"I can't believe how much you've grown up, Draco," Hermione admitted in awe. He scowled in an attempt to discourage the thought. "It doesn't mean I want them around. I just hate to see you feeling guilty about keeping them in the dark."

Hermione crossed her arms, officially done with her meal. Her stomach was too upset to finish. "Is it bad that I'm still afraid?"

"Of what?"

"Them. What they'll think about us." It came out as a murmur he could hardly hear over the din of the little café. His initial understanding of the words had him frowning. When she saw it, Hermione grabbed his hand, and rushed, "No, not like that. There's not a person on earth that is going to change my mind about being with you. If it came to some silly ultimatum like, 'Pick us or him', I wouldn't hesitate for a second to pick you. But I would still hate to lose them. That's seven years of friendship. What I'm afraid of is that they'll take it so badly that those seven years will mean nothing to them. And call me a coward, but right now I don't think I could deal with knowing I don't mean enough for them to grow up and accept us."

Recognizing when Hermione needed cheering up, Draco paid the bill and pulled her to her feet. As they walked arm in arm down the sidewalk, Draco said, "Hermione, if they can throw seven years of friendship out the window because they disagree on who you spend time with, then they don't deserve you. Take it from someone who gave up everything to have a chance to stand beside you, you're worth it. You've let them determine your worth since day one. Don't argue with me, it's true. But know that it's never too late to start over. If they can't accept your decisions, forget them, and let's start something new."

"I love it how you can simultaneously insult them yet support my friendship with them, Draco," Hermione said. He rolled his eyes, playing it off as nothing. "It's not like I'm begging you to write them or anything. I just want you to know that you don't have to worry about me if you do. Not that you would ever let me stop you, but in case you got some idea in your head that it might bother me. I know you too well not to think that."

Hermione would never ceased to be amazed by how much the boy at her side had changed. It had started during their fourth year, and she had been hopeful, but she could never have guessed he'd come so far. Her heart swelled with love for him, even as he went out of his way to deepen his haughty scowl to cover the fact that he had just been incredibly sweet and understanding. She kissed the scowl away, taking him by surprise.

"What was that for?" he wondered, though not really looking for an answer. She could kiss him any time she wanted. He bit back a groan when she gazed up at him through her lashes, shy smile on her lips. Merlin, he wanted her. "You're incredible, that's all," she whispered before continuing her way down the street. Draco let out a content sigh and chased after the witch.

As he fell into step beside her, she suggested, "How about this? We'll return to England once I've found my parents. We'll deal with everything and everyone then. Would that work?"

Not overly eager to return to the country that held so many nightmares for him, Draco agreed reluctantly. It helped when she smiled at him with that smile she always reserved just for him. He couldn't deny her anything when she gave him that smile and she knew it all too well. "And Scarhead and Weasel?"

Hermione's teeth trapped her bottom lip as she thought about her friends. Draco had to practice his self-restraint yet again. She was so innocently naïve about how beautiful she was to him. Little things like that drove him mental, and she hadn't a clue. Merlin, help him.

"I'm not sure. I don't think I'm ready. What if I send George a letter instead? He obviously knows I've gone and that you're with me. We'll tell him that we'll come home when we've found my parents. I know he'll keep our secret, and that way at least one person knows."

"Okay, if that's what you want."

"Excuse me, sir," Hermione called out to a middle aged gentleman who was exiting the store they were approaching. The dark haired gentleman looked to her expectantly as she held out her camera to him. "Would you please take our picture?"

With a pleasant grin, the man agreed and waited for them to pose.

Hermione snaked her arms around Draco's waist as he draped an arm across her shoulders. He leaned down and whispered, "What are we doing?" Smiling already, she answered, "We're giving George proof that it's still possible to be happy in this dreadful world."

Just before the man took the picture, Draco couldn't contain it any longer. He had been trying to find a time to say it for weeks. He'd wanted to tell her since the night Dumbledore died. He often wished he'd had the courage to say it then. Somehow, he still lacked it. He'd never uttered the words aloud to anyone, but he knew what he felt for the unbelievable witch in his arms was more real than anything he'd ever known.

Head still bent down by her ear, Draco finally said it. Years of angst over it melted away, and in the end, it simply rolled right off his tongue. "Hermione Jean Granger, I am completely and utterly in love with you."

The camera's flash went off a second later. Hermione whipped her head up to face him, a look of pure wonder on her face. She thanked the man when he returned her camera, so flustered she could barely manage to string the two words together. Her eyes never once left Draco's. His pale cheeks were painted red but his lips were twitched up in a confident smile. "I've been in love with you for years, and I don't know why it's taken me this long to say it."

"You-you love me?" Hermione squeaked, her hazel eyes wide as the moon. He raised his hands to cup her face gently, and pressed a sweet kiss to her lips. "More than anything."

Hermione could hardly breathe. She was cursing herself for her girlish reaction. It never occurred to her that she would be so flustered by his confession of love that she wouldn't be able to formulate her reciprocal feelings. Draco suddenly looked unsure of himself, though his hands never left her face. Their warmth ran through her veins and ignited a fire in her that had been merely smoldering since her run in with Bellatrix.

"Draco," Hermione breathed, her voice shaky, "I love you-"

But Draco was impatient, and she didn't get to finish before his lips came crashing down onto hers. Hermione always thought that everyone who talked about sparks and fireworks were simply overdramatic. And it wasn't quite electricity that she felt. As they kissed, every ineffable emotion poured into it, it felt like finally returning to the blissful safety of home after a long trip, jetlagged, exhausted, and homesick. She was family-less in a foreign land and she felt like she was home.

Gasping for air, Hermione pulled away from the kiss. "You git," she panted, "Couldn't even-let me-finish." But Draco wasn't done with her yet, and she couldn't help but smile against his lips.

"There, that should do it, right?"

Draco leaned over her shoulder and skimmed over the letter. "I think its fine. He's a good lad, George. I do hope he's alright," he said honestly. He would be forever grateful to the ginger for helping him get his happy ending with the witch of his dreams. "I do still wonder how he and Ginny knew about us."

Hermione clearly was too focused to hear him. She chewed anxiously on her pen, reviewing her work. Draco had pulled her hair into a ponytail for her when she kept huffing every time it got in her way. To say she had been surprised would be an understatement. She couldn't help the thrill that awakened every nerve in her body when she thought about the fact that he loved her. It still hadn't quite sunk in yet.

"You don't think he'll hate me for waiting so long to write, do you? I mean, the last time he saw me was in May, and it's already August."

"Of course he won't. I'm sure he'll be thrilled to hear from you," Draco said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before he made his way to the bed. He flopped down on it without any of the grace that his mother had instilled in him. Draco was half asleep by the time Hermione crawled onto the bed with him. Her smile greeted him when he blearily blinked open his eyes.

"It's not even nine o' clock, sleepy head," Hermione teased. She didn't understand a word of the grumbles that were muffled by the blanket. "Fine, but at least take your shoes off."

With a tired sigh, Draco rolled off the bed. He snatched a pair of pajama bottoms from his dresser and left the room, mumbling something about water. When he returned, he was clad in only the green plaid bottoms she knew were a salute to his house at Hogwarts. He returned to his previous position, only he lay on his back rather than his stomach.

In the dim light of the only remaining lamp that was on, Hermione caught a glimpse of his chest. Curling up against his side, she lightly traced the zigzag scars. She was entirely conscious of his curious gaze on her, but she ignored it momentarily. The four long, thin scars had faded considerably from the first time she had seen them, only a faded pink compared to the angry red that still haunted her.

"They're just scars, Hermione," he yawned, "They don't hurt anymore."

"I know. But they still make me sad."

Despite being more asleep than awake, Draco grabbed the hand tracing his scars and brought it up to his face. He pressed a kiss to the scar she had received in his own home. "Yours makes me sad, too."

Wordlessly, Hermione reached over him and turned out the lamp on his night stand. Before she had completely settled back down, she paused over him to catch his lips with hers. "I love you, Draco."

"Merlin, I'll never get tired of hearing that," Draco sighed happily, "I love you, too. Just don't tell too many people. I have a reputation to uphold, you know?"

Merlin only knows why, but she really did love him.

Draco feigned sleep until he felt Hermione's breaths grow deep and slow. He was worried. More worried than he let on. It was only a matter of time before they found her parents. And if Hermione stayed true to her word, which he knew she would, than he'd have to return home. He hadn't wanted her to know how much Potter and Weasley finding out the truth concerned him. They were in their own little magical world now, but he knew the bliss would end the moment her friends knew the truth. They would never accept him because he knew he didn't deserve her. Loving her despite the fact only made him feel as selfish as ever.

He also knew that if he breathed a word of his doubt, his worry, that she would lengthen her silence. And he couldn't do that to her knowing how much those idiots meant to her. Even if they knew the truth of his role in the war the past few years, he knew they would still never approve. And he had been through enough to be with her that he didn't want another fight.

Draco Malfoy was no longer the coward they remembered. But he was tired of fighting. He had fought for the right to be with her. Now that he had her, he wanted to lay his arms down and just live in peace.

But he was a Malfoy and he knew it would never be that simple.

A/N: Another long chapter for you! Hope you like it! And I know the time line is probably confusing, I've been rather vague about it, so I'll explain it a little better. Hermione and Draco went to Australia in June while Harry and George didn't go till November. That means that George got Hermione's letter, in which she says they're in Australia, months before Harry even suggested moving there(the real reason he feels so guilty). I'll be catching Hermione and Draco up much quicker now, and once they all meet up the time will obviously be the same.

Get ready for lots of George coming up! :)