Chapter 24: Draco

"Come for me, Draco."

Nothing in the world felt as good as she did in that moment, and I let go. The wave built up and crashed wildly over me, and I spilled my release into her. My forehead had come to rest between her shoulder blades, her hand gripping my forearm where I had it wrapped tightly around her waist. I eased out of her and lay on my side next to her. My muscles ached, and our breaths were still coming out hard. Hermione's beautiful face was turned to mine, the glow from her orgasm settling into a rosy blush on her cheeks. We laid in satisfied stillness for what felt like ages.

I was first to break the silence. "I think we should probably talk now."

"Oh, don't even try to think until the blood flows back to your brain from your dick. You'll end up with vertigo." Granger grinned at me impishly, her face still half-buried in her pillow.

"Let me guess. You read that somewhere?"

"Yes, I did." She stretched her over-worked muscles while I stood to retrieve my underwear from the floor. I slid them on then while she watched.

"You know, I find you much easier to get along with, knowing that for all of your faults, at least you have that glorious dick."

I laughed. "I feel the same way. You're still a hellish nightmare, but you have a nice rig to make up for it."

This felt familiar. This was us. Something was changing between us, and we were inching ever closer to needing to discuss what it meant, so this return to a verbal slinging match felt strangely comforting.

Hermione sat up, drawing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. "We do need to talk though, don't we?" she said quietly.

"Yeah, we do," I answered. She rose languidly from the bed and gestured to what was ostensibly her bathroom door.

"Don't fuck around with the shower. The water temp is perfectly charmed for me," she said and walked out of her bedroom, affording me a splendid view of her arse as she went.

I'll never get tired of that sight.

After being scalded by her perversely hot shower, I re-joined Granger in the living room. She was sitting on the couch, her black silk robe wrapped around her. I was only half-dressed, and she threw my shirt to me as I approached.

"There's no way I can think straight when you're shirtless," she said.

"If you're going to objectify me, Granger, at least be subtle about it."

"I think we're well past subtleties, don't you think, Malfoy?" We were back to last names, but she seemed more comfortable with it. I shrugged my shirt on but left it unbuttoned. I took a seat beside her, leaning my head back and gazing at nothing.

"Do you always have music playing?" I asked her, noting with curiosity her choice of Stevie Wonder song. I don't know why I love you, but I love you.

"Pretty much. Music grounds me," she answered. "It keeps -"

"Keeps you focused?" I interrupted, turning my head to smile at her. "Yeah, me too."

Granger smiled back at me. "Did you know that Stevie Wonder is a wizard?" she asked.

"Really?"

"Yeah. That's why he wears dark sunglasses all the time. Muggles think it's because he's blind, but really, he holds so much magic in his eyes that he has to wear the glasses to hide it."

"Right. So 'Stevie Wonder' isn't a stage name?"

"No, it's his real name. Stevland Hardaway Judkins, and later Morris, is his Muggle name."

"Wow, that's pretty cool," I answered, impressed. She smiled shyly and picked up a glass of water from the coffee table. She took a sip and replaced the glass, and picked up a small cushion, fidgeting with the edging. She's nervous again.

"Sickle for your thoughts, Granger?"

She laughed a breathy sound. "Only a sickle for my thoughts? Please, they're worth galleons."

"Okay, smart-arse, start small. What do you want?"

Granger eyed me cynically. "That's not exactly small, Malfoy." She groaned, a strained sound of frustration, and she used her fingers to gather her long hair into a ponytail before letting it tumble down again. "This is all just very unexpected."

"If this can't go any further than tonight, then just put it all out there. There's no reason to leave it unsaid."

She nodded, looking down at the cushion in her lap. "When Shacklebolt told me that we'd be working together on the Project, I thought that our history would make it difficult. You hated me and everyone like me. I hated you and everything you stood for. But then I saw you, and something was just there…" she trailed off, her fingers beginning to worry the edge of the cushion again. "All my life, I've been known as the 'brains'. Even in the war. Harry was the guts, Ron was the heart, and I was the brains. And that's fine, I'm proud of it. God knows there are far worse things to be known for."

Yeah, like being a Death Eater.

"But it's been really fucking lonely at times," Granger said quietly, still staring intently at the cushion. "In the end, that's why Ron and I broke up."

"So it wasn't your flagrant disregard for traditional marital values then?"

Granger snorted. "Rita Skeeter would make more sense if she talked out of her arse. It had nothing to do with me not wanting to get married and have kids. The issue with Ron and I was that we were together for so long that it just was too easy in the end."

"And that's … bad?" I asked, trying to hide my amusement.

"Yeah, it is. There was no fire between us. We just existed. The only thing he was ever passionate about was bloody Quidditch."

"You can't blame a man for that, Granger." I immediately wanted to hex myself for agreeing with the Weasel.

She finally looked up at me. "Do you know that I actually broke the toilet-seat charm on purpose, just so I had a reason to start picking fights with him?"

"That is completely mental."

"I know!" she cried, flinging her hands in the air. "I just needed something from him! But Ron was always so content just to be. I needed more than that, but I didn't know what it was. Ron just never stimulated me."

"Oh, God. Please, never, ever say that again."

"You know what I mean!" she said, flinging the cushion at me. "It's not like I didn't try either. I tried just to be as well. But I'm not built like that. I realise now that I need a spark, a current. I need meaningful, intellectual conversations now and then. And forgive me for also needing a bloody good shag occasionally!"

"You are not only forgiven but actively encouraged," I responded with a grin. Granger chuckled, shaking her head slightly.

"I was bored to tears with Ron in the end, which sounds so horrible because he has such a good heart. But that's why it ended." She was fidgeting with another of her cushions again. "After I broke up with Ron, I just threw myself into my job. I started getting bigger cases which provided the challenge I was craving, and eventually, I became Department Head. I have been so content with that. Until you came along."

She glanced at me, her expression becoming more serious.

"I'm an honest person, and I always do the right thing. I value my career. I have worked so hard to earn the respect that I have with my peers. But with you? It's like you've taken everything I thought about my career and myself and said, 'these are all well and good, but I'm offering everything else you never knew you needed.' It's so hard to control myself around you."

I knew what she meant. I was a man who prided himself on being steady and measured and collected. But just one whiff of her roses and rain scent and my reason was gone. Being close to her the night at Blakes Below was the best kind of torture. More than just the brains and the beauty, Granger was also fun-loving, surprisingly funny, and utterly charming. Sure, she had a smart mouth and could cut you with her words, but she was compassionate and protective of the people she cared about.

"This isn't even just about me and how I view myself. I'm thinking about Shacklebolt and what he would think of me. He's always supported me. I refuse to look him in the eye and lie to him anymore. He's been too good to me, and he deserves better than that."

Now, this I could understand even more. If there was one quality that I valued above all others, it was loyalty.

"I get it, and I actually respect you more for it," I told her. "I never wanted to admit it, but I've always admired you."

Granger gasped in mock horror. "What will your father say when he hears about this?"

"Cute," I replied sardonically. "You were the only one at school who was perhaps that little bit better than me at everything."

"Not everything," she cut in. "I'm no good on a broom."

"Okay, so I'm better at flying. Thank you for giving me that one thing, Granger," I said, and she giggled. "I hated it when I was younger, for having to compete with a Muggle-born, and then resenting myself further for being impressed by one."

Granger said nothing and just nodded.

"I know now how stupid and cruel I was. I don't think I have ever apologised to you properly." I broke off and turned my body toward her, grasping her hand and commanding her full attention. "Hermione, I am so, so sorry for everything I have ever said and done to hurt you. I'm so sorry."

Her eyes glistened instantly, and she bit her lip. "It's okay," Granger whispered, her voice shaky. "I know you weren't given a choice, and it's not who you are now. You hurt me, but you never broke me, so I forgive you. I think I forgave you a long time ago."

My mind was blown, and I found myself completely humbled by her once again. Granger cleared her throat and blinked away her unshed tears, but I didn't let go of her hand.

"Where to from here?" I asked her.

"I don't know. We never saw one another before the Project. Is it realistic to think that we could just go back to that?"

"Is that what you want?"

Granger sighed. "No, it's not what I want." She looked at me, solemnly. "I know what I feel for you. I don't know if I can just shove it in a box and hide it away like that."

I squeezed her hand, catching the subtext in her words. "So what are you suggesting?"

"Something entirely unfair," Granger said with a small chuckle, and she glanced at me uneasily. "Wait for me?"

The blood rushed in my ears, and I inhaled sharply. Granger saw my reaction, and hurriedly continued. "I know it's totally unfair. But there is something here, right? This is something?"

I nodded numbly.

"It's only been, like, a month? And we really don't know much about each other. We can't be together while you're still with the Project, and God only knows how long that will take to finish up. I only heard Shacklebolt mention the other day about expanding into other fields in the Muggle World …" Granger's free hand was gesticulating wildly, and she was rambling fast. This is classic anxious Granger.

"Slow down," I said quietly, and she paused. She inhaled deeply and let it out slowly.

"What I'm saying is, maybe we just put this on hold, rather than ending it completely. Is it reasonable to suggest that we just go about our lives, see other people and pretend like this never happened, until you're done with the Project?"

"Jesus, Granger," I replied sullenly. "That could be a year or more."

"I know," she murmured, her eyes downcast.

"And you want us to see other people in the meantime?"

"Yeah?" Granger replied hesitantly.

"And how do you see that working?" I pressed. I could feel my heart thudding in my chest. "What if you meet someone and fall in love with them? What do I do then? 'Sorry, Malfoy, shit happens'?" I pictured Granger in the arms of someone else, my jaw clenching at the thought.

"I don't know. I'm just trying to figure this out," she whispered.

"I've told you before. I don't share." I released her hand and ran my fingers through my hair. I was beginning to lose my cool, and it unnerved me. "This is bullshit," I mumbled, standing up. I took a few steps around her living room. In my anguish, I even tried occlumency tactics to curb my growing agitation, but it was futile.

"Fuck!" I yelled suddenly, unable to keep in my frustrations. In my peripheral vision, I could see Granger jump a little. I turned to face her. Her feet delicately tucked beneath her; the light from the lamp beside her reflected in her eyes as she stared at me pleadingly. My beautiful witch.

She's not my beautiful witch, I had to remind myself.

"You could fall in love with someone too, Malfoy. What would happen to me?" Granger reasoned.

"That wouldn't happen," I responded quickly.

"It might," she insisted.

"I'm telling you, it wouldn't."

"How do you know?"

"Because I'm falling for you, Granger!" I yelled despondently. Her eyes went wide with shock, and my chest seized. "I'm falling for you."

Saying the words out loud, I realised that this is precisely what I had been feeling. It physically hurt to say it now, knowing what she was asking of me. I sank into a nearby armchair, my elbows propped up on my knees. The only sound in the room was the crackle of the fire and the rich voice of Jacob Banks. I chuckled inwardly at the fucking cruel timing of his lyrics.

I know I've done wrong, I've paid for it. It's your turn to talk, for once I'm listening.

Granger was staring at me. She was no longer fidgeting; she was completely still.

Forgetting how it started, this is how it ends.

My cards were out on the table. It was up to her now.

Say that you don't want me. Say that you don't need me. Tell me I'm the fool.

"Malfoy -" she whispered. Of course, this is how it would go. The one who had always pushed me to be a better version of myself, in one way or another, had been right in front of me this whole time, and I never saw it. Now that she was here, I had to let her go.

I couldn't stomach the thought of being with anyone else now. Imagining Granger with another man turned my blood to ice. I didn't want her to wait for me either. She said it before. She couldn't just be. She would go mad sitting on a shelf waiting for the timing to be right. More than that, it felt disrespectful to expect her to wait. As much as it would kill me, I knew I needed to say what came next.

"If I can't have all of you now, we call it, and it ends tonight. Don't wait for me." My guts were churning, causing my tone to be much harsher than I intended, and Granger flinched. I considered just leaving my statement in the air. That perhaps reminding Granger of the prick I had been to her once might make it easier for her to walk away, but she looked so tortured. I couldn't leave it like that. I stood up and crossed the room to kneel before her.

"You shouldn't have to wait for anyone. Any man on Earth, wizard or Muggle, would be proud to be yours. I would be honoured to be yours." I held her face in my hands, tilting it up for her to meet my eyes. A small sob escaped her lips, and a lone tear dropped down her cheek. "You have so much to offer, Hermione Granger. To expect you to wait would be selfish of me. I tried to stamp out your light once before. I will not do that to you again." I pressed up to kiss away the tear on her cheek.

"I've made a fucking mess of everything," she wept, her hands curling around my wrists. My heart crumbled a little.

"We both did," I assured her. "And it was the best mess I've ever made because when it's all said and done, you've made me a better man for it."

"I didn't do anything." she hiccupped.

"Yes, you did. You gave me a second chance that I didn't fucking deserve," I replied earnestly, brushing her hair out from her forehead. "I got to hold your heart for a moment. I'm a lucky man."

She sobbed again, an anguished noise that chipped away at my edges. "How can I let you go now?"

"Because above all else, you have integrity. It's the right thing to do to let this go, and you've always done the right thing. Even when it's difficult." I kissed her cheek again. "And if you're still having a hard time letting go, remember me as a ferret." A reluctant laugh broke through Granger's tears, her hands still gripping my wrists for dear life. I pressed my lips to hers, maybe for the last time, and stood up.

"Are you leaving?" she asked shakily, and I nodded in response. She wiped her cheeks and rose from the couch, watching me while I buttoned my shirt. Placing her hand in mine, Granger walked with me to the fireplace. I turned to look at her, the tears still falling from her eyes. At that moment, the unbreakable Hermione Granger seemed so fragile, and I felt more fragments of my heart drop away. I wrapped her in an embrace and let her cry into my chest. The tiny witch in my arms felt impossibly smaller with every sob that wracked her, and I felt my own throat tight with emotion.

"I don't want to do this," she pleaded between sobs. "Don't make me walk away from you."

"I promise you. If this is meant for us someday, we'll find it again."

Granger pulled back to look up at me, and I pressed my lips to hers. Her sweet, soft minty taste mingled with the salt of her tears, and my heart shuddered in my chest again. Granger deepened the kiss, her arms leaving where she held me around my waist, flinging them around my neck and leaping up into my arms. Her legs wrapped around my hips, and I could feel myself growing hard as our kiss became more desperate. I felt Granger's tears moistening my face, and I suddenly remembered where I was and what was happening. I reached a hand up to grasp her chin.

"Stop, baby," I whispered. "It'll only make it worse."

Granger went limp in my arms, and I placed her feet gently back on the floor. I pressed a kiss to her forehead then bent to touch my forehead to hers.

"You were perfect," I whispered, releasing her hands. Stepping into her fireplace, I watched her sink to the floor. I felt the last pieces of my heart shatter as I Floo'd away.

I arrived back at my apartment, feeling empty and bereft. I glanced at the clock; it was late morning.

Fuck it, I thought, picking up my phone and calling the first name in my Favourites list.

"It's obvious by your colouring that you're a fucking vampire, but the rest of us value sleep," Theo answered groggily.

"Bring alcohol. Anything but firewhiskey. I'm not telling you why."

"It's stupid o'clock on a Tuesday morning," he responded.

"I know," I said dejectedly. I wondered if I looked as pathetic as I sounded.

"Nuff said," was Theo's simple reply before the phone line went dead.

A few minutes later, Theo blazed into my living room, carrying a bottle of Yamazaki 12. He picked up a couple of tumblers from the bar cart but paused when he saw my face.

"We're gonna need a bigger boat," Theo quoted. He headed for the kitchen instead, returning with a large white coffee mug that he placed on the coffee table before me and filled it to the brim.

"Just let me know when you want to talk about Granger," he said dryly.

"Or we could talk about you and Potter," I retorted.

"Fair play. Cheers, dickhead."

In an apartment across town, Pansy Parkinson stepped out of a white fireplace. Her friend sat on the couch, clutching a box of tissues, her nose red from crying. Pansy took a seat beside her.

"What can I do?" she asked tenderly. Granger shook her head. Her face crumpled, and she collapsed into Pansy's arms, sobbing.