Draco stared at the ceiling of the Sydney hotel, still and unblinking. He felt empty as he gazed into the nothingness. He hadn't felt this way in months, not since before Hermione Nott-Granger came back into his life.
He knew she was stressed, upset about the lack of progress with her parents. If he hated feeling helpless, Hermione loathed it. But she hadn't even let him talk about his potential potion before she made the decision to give up. Draco sighed heavily, scrubbing his face. He wondered what his mother would tell him right now.
"Probably would've told me to go back in instead of running away," he muttered to himself.
A knock sounded out at the door, breaking him from his thoughts. He sighed, throwing off the comforter and walking to the door. Expecting to turn away the cleaning staff, he didn't bother putting on anything but his robe and opened the door with a grimace.
Staring back at him were two amber eyes. The same ones that had been haunting him since she showed back up in his life months ago. Only now they were puffy and pink, like Hermione had been crying since he left her at the hospital. A pang of anxiety grabbed at his heart, and he wanted to reach out and pull her into his arms.
"Hi," was all she said, like she hadn't lashed out at him earlier.
"Hi," Draco replied, confused. "Why are you here?" Her face fell and Draco cursed himself for his blunt greeting.
"I'm sorry, it's late. I should have realized you were sleeping," Hermione said quickly, the words melting together. "Do you want me to go?"
"Does it look like I want you to go?" Draco leaned against the doorframe, cocking an eyebrow at her. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Come in," Draco said as he gestured behind him.
She walked past him into his room. He wanted to reach out, to hold her, to kiss the tension away. Instead, he kept his distance.
"I found this," she said, holding up his notebook. A rock formed in his throat, wondering if she'd cracked it open to find his secret project. He wanted to only share it when he could promise her results, not frustrate her with more non-answers.
"And?" Draco asked when she didn't add anything.
"Did you really have to get the penthouse suite?" Hermione's tone was incredulous as she surveyed the over-the-top room. She paused in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, taking in the Sydney skyline, lit up in the dark. Draco narrowed his eyes at her back.
If that's how she wants to play it, he thought to himself.
"But of course," Draco said, grabbing elf wine from the bar cart and pouring some for both of them. He walked up behind her, reaching around her to give her the glass. "What is the point of being disgustingly wealthy if you don't get to travel in style? Though I suppose you're the one to ask, with your regular room," he teased her, both thankful and wary to slip into their usual bickering.
"You are insufferable," Hermione scoffed before taking a sip of her wine. She didn't move away from him, instead leaning back and resting her head on his shoulder. His heart flipped. Draco snaked his arm around her waist, holding her against him. They stayed like that for a while, melting into each other in a comfortable silence as they watched the city alive below them.
"Hermione, did you just come to drop off my notebook?" he asked, his eyes grazing the gentle slope of her profile.
She took a deep breath, her body expanding in his arms.
"I know the timing is off with...everything this last week, but I just," she paused, taking a sip of her wine. "When I'm not thinking of my parents, my mind always wanders back to you. It's been that way for a while now, but especially since we came here. I just keep replaying what you said to me before we left."
Draco breathed her in as she spoke, letting the words wash over him.
"Is that okay? Are you okay?" he asked, wondering if the timing was still off with them, if she was just avoiding her problems. The anxiety grew louder in her silence and he tried to focus on her expression in the window. The colors of the city lights distorted her face, though he thought he saw a hint of a smile forming in her reflection.
"You keep asking me that," Hermione said, amusement in her tone where frustration had been only hours ago. "Are you?"
"I think I'm going to be," he said, pulling her in closer and ignoring his doubts. The timing would never be perfect for the two of them and he couldn't wait any longer.
"I think I am too," she added. He breathed her in, hoping that meant she wanted him to be part of this future okay state.
"Can I kiss you?" Draco whispered into her wild curls, unable to contain himself any longer. She didn't answer, quietly swaying in his arms, and he held his breath. He desperately wanted to see her face; to know she wanted him like he wanted her.
Hermione pried her body away from him, placing her glass and notebook down on the window sill before turning around to look at him, just a few steps out of reach. She was biting her lip in that way she did when she was working on a problem, trying to see it from every angle. Draco didn't want to be her problem, only her solution.
"Yes," she said quietly, looking up at him with that hungry expression he'd only seen the night of the ball. "I'd like that."
She took a step closer to him and pressed up on her toes; he lowered his head to meet her. Draco expected a gentle kiss. Instead, her lips drank him in like she was trapped in a desert and he was the only water she'd seen in days. On some level he felt he should've been prepared for her intensity; Hermione Granger was famous for her unrelenting passion.
Her petite hands tangled into his hair and she fell into him, her body asking if he wanted this. Draco answered in kind, grabbing her by the small of her back and pulling Hermione even closer to him. Pressed against his chest, her warmth burned him through her Muggle clothes. The smell of vanilla overpowered him as their kiss grew more desperate.
All he could think was how much better this kiss was than their first potion-induced one and their recent tear-stained mess that was interrupted by Theo. She'd sought him out in his hotel room, she'd leaned into him, she'd readily agreed to kiss him...Hermione wanted him, without a potion, without an emotional bombshell. There was no feeling that could top that.
Hermione's hands slipped down and began to unbutton his shirt. He grabbed her wrists and pulled away from their kiss, closing his eyes and letting his forehead rest against hers.
"Are you sure you want to do this right now?" Draco asked between heavy breaths, hating himself for stopping her. He wanted her, and more than that, he wanted to be her's. He didn't want to throw away their chance to be something more for a one night shag. He wanted something real. "We can't uncross this bridge."
"I'm sure," she whispered out, sending a shiver down his spine.
She kissed him, gently this time. "I'm not going anywhere," she whispered against his lips. Her words hit him like a boulder tossed into a calm lake, emotions bubbling up and desire rippling across his still surface. Their lips crashed together again and he walked them back toward the bed. He fell back onto the soft mattress, bringing her with him, her small frame falling on him with surprising force. Both surprised at how they landed with a thud, they giggled into each other's mouths before Hermione shifted in his lap and pulled a groan from the back of his throat.
Wrapped up in the sheets, Draco worshipped her body with kisses and gentle nips. He tried to memorize every curve of her body, every scar marring her soft skin, every breathy moan he could elicit. He'd never studied anything this hard, including his potion work. Hermione promised she wouldn't push him away again, but he wanted tonight tattooed on the walls of his mind just in case.
When they found a rhythm, the air in the room became thinner. Even though he'd only had a few sips of elf wine, Draco felt dizzyingly drunk as he deepened their kiss. Drunk on her taste, drunk on her touch, drunk on Hermione. He wondered if he could bottle this, save it for later, uncork it whenever he was without her.
When they'd finally exhausted themselves, Draco stared up at the ceiling as Hermione's breathing slowed, her head heavy on his chest. He knew only one thing: he was hers, wholly and completely. He looked down at the mess of curls sprawled against his chest and hoped she was his too. There was no going back now.
"Thank you," he heard her say quietly.
"That's a good way to inflate a wizard's ego," he joked, running his hand over her curls.
"Not for that," she said, swatting at his arm. She propped herself up on his chest, gazing at him. "For coming here with me. And for trying to come up with a solution."
"I couldn't save your parents' memories," Draco said, pulling her in even closer against him, reveling in the warmth of her body.
"No, but you're working on it," she replied. "You did independent research, you tried to come up with a different solution. We'd only been talking about spells, no Healer had talked to me about a potion."
"Well, it doesn't exist," he said, the frustration he'd felt all week slipping in. No matter how much research he'd done, he hadn't found anything. That's when he had decided to start working on his own.
"No it doesn't," she agreed. "Not yet. And maybe not ever. It just means a lot to me that you were here for me."
"There's nowhere else I'd rather be," Draco said honestly.
"Imagine if you from a few months ago heard you say that." Her mouth curved into a smile, and he felt the corners of his tip up too.
"Imagine if you from a few months ago heard me say that! It'd be a bloody disaster," he laughed. She giggled too, the sound like a gift. Draco wondered if he could keep them there forever, tangled in bed and laughing, ignoring the outside world.
"Can you tell me more about the potion?" Hermione asked once their laughter stopped, becoming serious again and shattering the moment.
"That's exactly the kind of pillow talk I'd expect from Ms. Swot herself," he said, smiling. "I wanted to tell you earlier," he added. "Before...everything."
"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered. "I was overwhelmed and I shouldn't have lashed out at you like that."
"I understand. After everything we've been through, me tormenting you in school, my parents' role in the war, I can't blame you for what you said."
"You can," she interjected, laying her hand flat on his chest. "I certainly do. It was horrible."
"Are you going to keep your parents under while we work on a potion?"
"No," she replied. "They deserve to live their life. I need to accept the consequences. They'll be the Wilkins again and we will just have to perfect the potion in the meantime...together."
"Together," he echoed, a warmth settling in her chest and spreading outward. "I like the sound of that."
"Me too," she said, pressing a kiss to his neck before laying back down. Soon her breathing became deeper, and she drifted off.
Draco Malfoy stared up at the ceiling, arms wrapped around Hermione Granger, finally feeling full again. He was ready for the future, whatever that might look like, with her by his side.