A/N: ABOUT THE DELAY: I'm sorry for keeping you all waiting. This chapter was a monster to write because it required me to be rather happy, do you know what I mean? When I was happy I didn't feel like writing and when I was ready to write I wasn't happy. But anyway, hope you all enjoyed your holidays and a VERY HAPPY NEW YEAR TO YOU!

ABOUT THIS CHAPTER: It's a bit of a filler, I shan't lie. The next chapter officially marks the halfway point of the plot. I'll let you know how many chapters are left when I figure it out.

LASTLY: Thank you to the lovely reviewers: Irze, WildRose22, MEEC7, HarryPGinnyW4eva, DramioneInLove, RolledupinOne, Dancing-Souls, galaapple12, Christian, Sophie, silver, and .account.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE: DRUNKEN LOVE

Soon, the raging river turned into a wide and gentle lake. I wasn't fooled, though. Even though I couldn't see the current, I knew it was probably there, waiting to deceive unwary travellers and suck the lot of us into its unforgiving depths. Hermione thought I was crazy, but she did have this whole daredevil complex going on. She tells me that that really isn't a thing. I think she needs to learn when to admit that she's wrong.

Not that I would ever say that out loud to her. She did have a hand in my food preparation more often than not, after all.

After that one awkward night of tearful confessions had passed, we were even more comfortable around each other. She had never been shy about snuggling up to me in the cold, wet nights. But now I felt alright throwing an arm around her shoulder or sleeping with my face pressed between her shoulder blades. I even stopped panicking every time I woke up with her wrapped completely inappropriately around me. I just took it as it was.

She never brought up the plight of the British purebloods again. I think we both agreed that that was something we ought to leave alone for the time being. I think she could feel our time slipping away from us as well and she just wanted to enjoy what was left of it in peaceful silence. I wondered if this was some kind of vacation for her. For me, this was the golden time. Even though travelling through a forest on foot can be considered drudgery, doing this with her was something like a little heaven. I was never going to have anything like this ever again.

Eventually, it stopped raining too. The sun came out to say hello to us and warmed our backs as we walked along. Hermione never seemed to be in a hurry and I wondered why that was exactly. If I were her, I'd be rushing as quickly as possible towards the border. I'm not sure if I would even bother stopping at night like we did every day. Maybe she was as afraid of what her life was going to hold for her when she finally got back.

For me, starting life could wait. This was a sort of escape from reality. Her smiles and carefree spirit lit me up from inside to the point where I could feel myself glowing like a little lamp. No amount of rain could dampen my spirits, or even the threat of drowning in a raging river. Smiling came easy and laughing came even easier. We moved to our future with lighter hearts than we began.

When she held my hand these days I didn't even question what life would be like without this. It was a dangerous thing to have done.

One golden afternoon, we reached a brilliant small waterfall, pounding over a shallow cliff. It was something of a beauty, raising up puffs of mist and creating rainbows. There was a deer, sipping from the river bank not too far from us. It didn't hear us approach from the roar of the water. Hermione grinned at it, grinned at me, and grinned at everything around us. I hadn't seen her this happy… ever.

"This isn't a bad place to get clean," she pointed out.

My mouth went dry at her suggestion. "What, together?"

She raised a brow at me whilst shrugging off her – admittedly – filthy sweater. She nodded her head to the water and I wanted to smack myself. Of course she meant together. It wasn't like we had stumbled upon a bath. We were out in the open. Obviously there was no modicum of privacy in a situation like this! I was a graceless idiot. I was the picture of stupidity. I was –

Entranced.

She was stripping to her knickers and I realized I couldn't hear a word she was saying to me, even though her lips were obviously moving. I'd just tuned her out, too focused on what her innocent little hands were doing. All I could see was her skin coming into view and how comfortable she felt barring herself in her little shorts and undershirt.

To be fair, these were her regular sleep clothes but she'd donned them under her clothes as undergarments, since the both of us had run out of clean underwear a while ago. But there was just something startling about watching this woman take her clothes off shamelessly before me, as if it was a common place thing. She wasn't even sparing me a glance, too excited about the prospect of getting clean.

I was startled to realize that this was common place, or at least it was to her. She had been undressing in my vicinity for a while now. Only this time I wasn't turning away and she didn't seem to care one way or another. For her, this was entirely innocent. It should have been innocent for me, but it wasn't. It couldn't have been in any context. By gods, though. If only she knew what I was thinking, she would've been more careful about exposing herself. Or, I suppose, being around me in general.

It must seem pathetic now. I feel pathetic just saying it. It wasn't that I'd never seen a woman take off her clothes before or been around the opposite sex in any state of undress. We had had recreational swimming activities all the time in the past and some of those girls surely did show up in less than what Hermione was wearing now, but…

I suppose it had been a long time. I just couldn't help but stare.

When she dived into the river head first with a high pitched squeal of joy, I was startled out of my reverie. She swam to the waterfall before she even noticed that I hadn't even attempted to join her. It took her splashing at me and giving me that piercing pointed look for me to begin awkwardly shedding my clothes.

I knew she was staring and I knew my face was bright red, but there was nothing to be done for this situation. It wasn't like I could tell her to turn away since I had shamelessly watched her take off her clothes. That would be hypocritical. Turning away seemed like too much of a childish thing to do. All I could do was shakily take off my filthy clothing and pretend like she wasn't staring at me.

I knew how I must have looked to her. As much as I had spent my childhood being so, I wasn't delusional. Skipping meals and not having anything substantial for years did things to one's body – and not good things either. I was skinny. I was lanky. I was boney. I knew this. Most of all, I knew I was extremely unattractive. It was undeniable. I was pale and sickly and ghostly.

And she was a beautiful ray of sunshine with that tanned skin and definition that clearly meant she spent time taking care of herself. Looking at her made me want to wrap my arms around myself and maybe try drowning after all. Instead, I just jumped into the water, hoping it would hide most of the hideousness from her eyes.

"Bloody hell!" I said instead, almost jumping back out to the bank. "Why didn't you warn me it was cold!"

"Always such a baby," She giggled and splashed me, shrieking when I splashed her back. "You'll get used to it."

Soon she was floating on her back, eyes closed, and face upturned to the sky. This was no longer about necessarily getting clean. It was more so about relaxing, letting the tension seep away from her bones. I still cannot fathom what it was she was holding inside her that day that needed to be released. The gentle smile on her face blinded me. It still blinds me if I close my eyes and think back to it.

"It's not that cold," she said, cracking an eye open and looking in my way. She smiled more fully when she saw me staring at her. "It's actually quite warm."

Looking at you, I thought, everything is warm.

I think she knew what I was thinking, because she kicked water in my face and treaded away before I had the opportunity to be annoyed. She was already halfway towards the mini waterfall, her stroke surprisingly steady. But of course it would be. She was strong. She had always been perfectly capable of everything physical except for riding a broom.

There was nothing else for it. If I was going to play this game, I was going to have to play by her rules. And that meant keeping up. I clasped my hands together and dove forward, swimming as fast as I could in her general direction. I used to be able to swim well. We would vacation to France or Italy every summer and I'd be up and down beaches for hours. Not that my complexion showed it, ever.

But now those muscles felt unused, almost like they didn't belong to me at all. I'd only made it a couple of meters when I felt the strain in my arms, the cramp in my side, and the lack of air in my chest. I'd barely moved at all when I thought I was going to die, bursting out from under the water and gasping for air as if there was a lack of it in this world.

"Come on, slow poke!" she called out to me, already sitting up on a rock near the waterfall. "It'll be dark before you can catch me at that rate!"

That made me scowl. She could apparently see it from all the way over there and I could hear her tinkling laughter in response. Suddenly I was glad I was in this frigid water and glad that I couldn't quite keep up with her. This distance was necessary. It was especially necessary when she was in her knickers and sitting there all bare, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Finally," she said, when I got there. I rolled my eyes. "I think I must've aged a year, just watching you."

"Is that so?" I asked.

"Yes-"

But she didn't get to finish that answer because I'd reached out and shoved her back into the water. She squealed in delight on the way down and stuck her tongue out at me after she resurfaced.

"How old do you feel now, Granger?" I mocked with a smile.

She grinned. "Like I'm eleven again."

And then she reached up and grabbed my ankle so that I fell in with her. Before I could catch her for my revenge, though, she was gone, swimming away from me like a darting little fish.

/

We were on the bank of the river where we'd left our things earlier. She had somehow produced a little box of laundry detergent from her never ending bag. It had amazed me so much that she'd burst out laughing at me. She didn't find it to be odd at all, finding a bit of detergent in her bag. I told her that most people didn't just wander around with these kinds of things tucked away.

"I'm between houses," was all she'd said.

I had had to shrug it off. She was an odd bird. There was nothing else to it.

So we set ourselves to the task of washing our clothes in the river. I was used to washing my clothes in a bucket in my bathtub back at home, so this wasn't too much of a change for me. I imagined someone like Granger could just set her clothes to magically wash themselves. I knew for a fact that muggles had devices that did these kinds of things for them. Perhaps she used them, too. But she just sat next to me, her feet dangling in the river, and did the job without complaint. She even had a smile on her face.

But of course this odd woman wouldn't have any problems washing dirty clothes in a Bulgarian river. Of course not. She was the essence of resourcefulness, after all. I wonder how much of a liability I was to her then. If it weren't for me and she was stuck out here all on her own, I bet she would've been back home by now. What had she gone through that had made her this way? What secrets was she holding within herself?

I wanted to see. No, I wanted her to show me.

"What's that?" she asked suddenly, pointing to something beyond me.

I turned to look at what had caught her attention, only to find a creature staring at me. It had beady little eyes and it was staring into my soul, as if I had killed its creature wife, or something. In retrospect, it was only a beaver or a squirrel or a rodent of a similar size, but just because they're small doesn't mean they don't want to kill you and don't the lot of them carry incurable diseases and poisons and filth?

Anyway.

What's important is that I did not scream. No ma'am. I only gasped a little and scrambled backwards to get away from the unidentified but clearly murderous object. The only problem with that was that the rocks were slippery with river water and the detergent we had been using to wash our clothes. I slipped. I fell ungraciously right onto my back at her feet. It hurt like a bitch.

The creature scurried away completely unharmed, carrying its respective diseases with it.

I stared up at Hermione, who was trying her hardest not to laugh at me. It was obviously a failed attempt because when had she ever given up an opportunity to laugh at me? She giggled as I lay before her at her feet and I had to scowl up at her. And then she laughed, all bells and sunshine, and it lit up the whole forest. The setting sun lit her up from behind. And then she was glowing. And then I was enchanted.

And then I knew I must've been drunk off the river water. Or perhaps the creature had bit me when I hadn't been looking. I was drunk. I was intoxicated. I was feeling a little bit woozy. Or dizzy. Or both.

"Are you afraid of the little squirrel, too?" she asked me sweetly, her smile as brilliant as the setting sun. "I'm sure it only wanted to be your friend."

"Ha bloody ha," I grumbled. She tried to stifle a giggle by offering me a hand up, but when she tugged I collapsed. I felt a spasm shoot up my leg. I knew the little thing had disabled me after all! All I could do was stare at her bewildered and say, "Ow!"

"What's wrong?" she asked, the smile gone and that characteristic good willed concern back in place.

"My leg."

She crouched down before me and made me remove my hands. I let her, of course, because I had long since learned it was futile to interfere with her fussing. She gripped and prodded and scientifically explored my leg while I watched her do it all. While we were sat there with barely any clothes on. Whilst we were still rather wet and her sleep shorts were clinging to her and had gone a little bit see through –

"Ow!" I exclaimed at a particularly brutal prod.

Perhaps she had sensed the direction my thoughts had gone. How embarrassing.

"Well, it's not broken," she said with a smile. That goddamn smile. "It's just a cramp, I think. Here, let me help you."

And then her hands were on my painfully twitching leg, trying to work that kink out. She didn't even take a second to think that this was my personal space she was invading with those perfect bloody fingers. She worked them into my calf and my whole body jerked, as if her fingers were the key and I had just started up. My blood thrummed in my veins and when she pressed, I quivered. Like I was the broom and she was the rider. In a non-sexual sense. Obviously.

Obviously. Obviously.

What wasn't so obvious was what I was feeling right in that moment. I wanted to just still those nimble little fingers, grasp her perfect little face, pull her to me and kiss her before she could process anything in that overly large brain of hers and still her with my lips and a gasp of air and fingers that just wanted to touch every single goddamn place I could reach –

"Did I press too hard?" she asked. "You look a little red."

Not hard enough, I wanted to say. I want to see how you'd look red too.

And then I leaned towards her and tilted her head towards me by her chin. I exhaled against her lips before pressing mine softly against hers and she clutched at me, because she was as floored as I was. I licked at her lips and at her teeth and at her tongue and then she gripped me harder and I kissed her harder and she gripped my hair and I –

"Draco?" she said, her fingers quitting the massage mission. "Are you alright?"

And then I grasped her head, just above her neck to pull her closer and she let me – no, she wanted me to, because she gripped me closer too and we scrambled – no, we fought to be closer – and she kissed me back because she wanted it too – and we were both gasping and maybe I moaned and maybe she did too, and those goddamn fingers –

"Draco?"

I shook my head.

"Yes?" Perhaps my voice was weak. "Yes."

"Are you alright?" she asked again. I nodded. "Are you sure?"

I nodded again and she put her hand on mine, which was on her shoulder. When had I done that? I wasn't imagining that. I wasn't imagining anything anymore. This was real. I held my breath. This was real. I held it until I was dizzy and had to gasp. Her eyelids drooped and she gently leaned towards me. My heart was beating even faster now. She could hear it, I was sure. This was real. It was in my ears like a beating drum.

"Hermione," I whispered.

This was real.

"Yes?" she asked. Her voice was breathy. She was close enough to share my air.

"I…"

"Yes?" she prompted but my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth and I couldn't breathe. "Draco."

When she said my name, my eyes slipped shut and I could almost feel her breath on my cheek, she was that close. I wasn't dreaming. This was real. I wasn't dreaming. I couldn't be. Things like this couldn't be imagined and I lacked imagination in the first place. Her hand was on mine still, clasped over her shoulder, and we were there together just breathing in that moment before everything changes.

She was going to change everything and I wanted her to. Goddamnit, did I want her to.

"Draco, I…"

"Yes," I whispered. Do it. It wasn't a question. "Yes."

I opened my eyes when she exhaled. Hers were still closed – when had she closed them? - her hand clenched tight in the fabric of her shorts, the other still gripping mine. Her lashes framed her cheeks. Her lips were parted. If I leaned forward, I'd be able to have what I wanted, what I'd wanted this whole time, what I needed to take from her. I could close that little inch of space between us and change everything. This was real. I wasn't dreaming. I could finish this and maybe she would give it to me.

Then I saw her tremble and I remembered how she had trembled in my arms, scared of a little thunder, how she had shook because of her laughter as we danced in that ugly garden, and how we had both shaken with exhaustion on our flight away from the city.

I saw her shake and I remembered all that and how she had trusted me with everything. I looked at her and I couldn't breach this trust when she really didn't want this, how nervous she was, how she shook with the tension of this. I looked at her and I realized I couldn't do this to her, couldn't take away anything more from her than I already had.

"Thanks…" I said, my voice slightly strangled. I had to force myself to let go of her. I cleared my throat and she opened her eyes. "For helping me, I mean."

"Of course," she said. There was something in her eyes. Maybe it was disappointment. Maybe it was relief. She had loosened her grip on her fistful of shorts. "Is it better?"

"Yes," I said with a sigh. I still wanted it – her – desperately, but I realized that she probably didn't want to give it to me. But that was going to have to be okay, I realized. Because this was more than I was deserving of already. I strengthened my resolve and took a calming breath, leaning back away from her. I said, "Yes."

She smiled, but it was a little dimmed. I didn't know what to say to her, how to calm her, how to get rid of this air that we'd built around us in the space of those few moments, so I said nothing. She moved to sit next to me and together we sat side by side and watched the sun set over the river. It was beautiful. It was the last peaceful moment I had with her for a very long time.

She didn't say anything, either, but that night she still curled up against me like every other day and we settled in to sleep at the riverbank. When I was sure she was asleep, I kissed the top of her head and memorized the feel of her.

I didn't know she was as awake as I was. I missed the curve of her smile.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! It was a little psychotic and all over the place, but it was (I think) a little bit necessary for what's going to happen ahead. It's a little shorter than usual, so forgive me for that. Any updates to the posting schedule, my life (if you care), and random stuff will always be on my profile.

In the meanwhile, here's a sneak peek of the next chapter:

The next thing I knew, I was sitting chained to an iron chair in a dark interrogation room, somewhere deep in the Ministry. The walls were bare, the room pretty much empty except for the table and chair and my uneven breathing.

Unsigned Reviews:

Irze: I'm glad you enjoyed it! This was definitely the part of the story I had in mind when I came up with the idea. I'm also glad Hermione's egalitarian views don't rub you the wrong way. It's always a fifty-fifty kind of thing with most people. I apologize for the long wait and all, but we'll get there. I promise. Thank you for reviewing!

Christian: Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed. It's a theme that I really do like to keep on with because it has a lot of personal relevance to my own life. Hope you had a great vacation and thank you for the well wishes.

Sophie: Thank you for your enthusiasm! I apologize for the delay.

Silver: Thank you for your reviews. Sorry for the panic and I'm glad you're enjoying! Stay strong. I just want to say, I can't really respond to you unless you sign into your account and post your reviews that way. Thanks again! M.