"Remind me again, Granger, why I agreed to do this with you, in the freezing cold, with no Warming charm, when we could be at home, sitting in front of the fire with a cup of hot chocolate and a good book, you know, not freezing to death like idiots?" Draco asked her as they traversed the winding streets of Polperro, a brisk wind picking up the cloth of his white silk scarf and trailing it behind him like a banner. The Cornish town wasn't far from his mother's house, and Hermione had wanted to investigate their wintery offerings, much to Draco's chagrin.
"Because I asked nicely?" she said, batting her eyelashes at him in an exaggerated fashion.
Draco laughed, breath clouding out in front of him, warning the side of her face as she clung to the elbow he had offered her, ever the gentleman.
"Yes, 'asked' is definitely the word I would use. Not 'incessantly pestered' until I agreed under immense duress."
"That's a phrase, not a word," Hermione pointed out instantly, out if pure instinct. It it had been anyone else, they would have groaned, would have told her to not be so literal, that she didn't always have to correct everything. But not Draco. No, he only said, "Very true," and began to ask about all the people buying fireworks. It was the 29th, New Years not that far away, and she told him about all the Muggle traditions associated with it. From the office parties to the fireworks to the staying up at midnight and kissing someone at the stroke of the new year, trying not to blush.
She'd never done it herself, but her parents had, seeing them together after she was old enough to be permitted to stay awake. Draco would have; all the girls had fawned over him incessantly. Not that she cared or anything. He could go kiss whoever he wanted, it was fine by her.
Since it was indeed bitterly cold, they got some hot chocolate from a local coffee shop, the heat from the styrofoam soaking into her palms through her thick gloves. Draco had forgone gloves, since he wanted to look cool and carefree. Hermione thought he was probably regretting choosing aesthetics over practicality and warmth.
"Why are people buying ice cream?" Draco pondered aloud.
"It's a coastal town, Draco," Hermione pointed out.
Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm well aware, Hermione, but it's the middle of winter, so, why would you objectively choose to be more cold?"
"Because anything can be improved with ice cream. I can't recall the number of ice cream parties I've born witness to in the girls' dorm when someone broke up with their boyfriend or didn't get the marks they wanted on their test."
They'd had one their first week of Hogwarts, sitting on Ginny's bed, the blankets pulled up over them, everyone sneaking bits of Hermione's rocky road. It had been one of those bonding moments, a moment that said, 'I feel your pain because it is my own,' without actually having to say anything.
"Really? In Slytherin, we just get a blackboard and start plotting revenge if someone breaks someone's heart. I must say, ice cream does sound better, and is less likely to lead to detention."
Hermione laughed. "You're right at that."
At the end of the quaintly cobbled street was a restaurant, menu catching the cloudy afternoon light. The two grabbed something to eat, discreetly laughing at the pictures of Cornish Pixies.
"Do you remember poor Neville getting dragged up to the ceiling by his ears?" Draco asked as they sat on a wall, legs brushing up against each other's. "Poor guy, that must have been horrible."
Hermione gave him a sly look. "Correct me if I'm wrong," she drawled, "but as far as memory serves, you were cowering under a table with Crabbe and Goyle after emitting a rather un-Slytherin squeal of fright."
Draco narrowed his eyes at her. "Yes, I may have crawled under a table in fear of my safety, but I do not squeal, Hermione. Ever. Certainly not in fright. Besides, you had the situation well in hand; my magical services were not required at that current junction."
"Really? Because when you got that new broom this morning from Narcissa, I'm pretty sure you squealed."
"Says the girl who cried after I got her a signed copy of Moste Potent Potions."
"It was a first edition!" she exclaimed. "With the original binding! Hey, at least you knew I was grateful."
Draco shook his head. "I know you're grateful, Hermione. You didn't have to assault my ear drums to convey it."
"Apologies. Really, Draco, the first part was so sweet; must you ruin the moment?"
"Always."
Feet as silent as a cat, Draco padded over to Hermione's bedroom, checking his watch as he knocked lightly. 11:29. Plenty of time...
If Hermione ever woke up.
She opened the door, hair sticking up in ever direction, arms folded and eyes burning holes into his chest.
She was still the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen.
Even with drool on her cheek.
"Draco, do you know what time it is?" she asked him peevishly.
"I do."
"So you know, then, that it is not customary to go knocking on people's doors at such an hour. If you finished The Hobbit already, can't it wait until tomorrow?" Hermione whined.
Draco smirked. "First of all, I'm only knocking on your door. Second, no, I haven't, but I will. And third..."
"And third what?"
"I thought you might want to see the fireworks. It is customary to do so on the 31st, after all. Get dressed. We leave in five minutes."
Hermione closed the door. But he knew she was going, mostly due to her quiet cursing of him under her breath that he could hear through the door as she rummaged around with no light on.
Draco retreated to his own room, and by the time he'd emerged, bending over to do up his laces, Hermione was already dressed, hair looking a little less wild and hedgehog-like.
"You boys and laces," she lamented. "Here, let me." Without a word from him, she bent down, doing them up with a few deft movements.
He'd never let anyone do his shoes for him, not even his mother. His father had taught him once and expected Draco to not need help after that. He recalled the hours he'd spent in his room, trying to do them by himself as a boy, not wanting to get it wrong and disappoint his father.
Hermione did much nicer bows than him.
He took her hand, Apparating to the spot on the wall where they'd sat a few days previous. Although he'd complained at the time, he'd really enjoyed it, the sweet normality of it, of people not judging them both for being in the company of the other. To everyone around, they'd just been two teenagers chatting on a wall, throwing wrappers at each other and laughing when a seagull wouldn't leave Hermione's chips alone.
He'd never thought that it could be like that, so very easy, so simple. That just spending time together, talking about everything and nothing, could put him so at ease, could chase away the darkness when it tried to creep up on him.
Hermione made everything seem brighter, and Draco couldn't get enough of it. Enough of her.
So, naturally, he'd woken her up in the middle of the night to watch the fireworks. If he'd been a different wizard, and she'd been a different witch, he might have used this as an excuse to kiss her.
But he wasn't, and he wouldn't.
Tonight wasn't about that.
Hermione jumped up onto the wall due to her smaller height, having to use her hands for balance. Draco chuckled and merely sat down.
"Show-off," she grumbled.
"What?" he asked, raising his hands in supplication. "I can't help my superior height."
"We'll see how superior you are when I punch you in the face," Hermione retorted.
"But, alas, Hermione dear, then you'd miss the fireworks."
"True."
Hermione conjured a blanket, wrapping it around her shoulders.
"What, no blanket for me?" Draco said with an exaggerated pout.
Hermione sighed but Engorged it, so that it could fit around the both of them.
"Thank you, milady," he said with a mock-bow at the waist, all he could accomplish will sitting on a wall and trying not to fall off.
"You're most welcome, good sir."
The two sat shoulder to shoulder once again, waiting for the spectacle to start.
"Are you excited?" she asked.
"About what?"
"About it raining tomorrow," Hermione said, completely deadpan. Then she grinned. "The fireworks, you idiot! You can't see them at Hogwarts, since it's so secluded and I doubt you'd see them because of all the wards anyhow."
Draco scratched at the back of his neck, a nervous tick. "Yeah, I'm excited. It's nice, to do something normal. To pretend to be normal, even if it's only for a little while, even if it's only to watch some fireworks on a damp wall with my best friend."
Hermione shook her head at him, but she was smiling. "Oh, Draco, did you forget what I said about pretending?"
"What?"
"That you don't have to do it with me," she said, and gripped his hand as the first of the fireworks went off, gasping in delight as their colours bloomed across the sky.
And yes, they were beautiful, and it was amazing what Muggles could create without magic, that still felt special and enchanting. But in all honesty, Draco wasn't looking at the fireworks.
He was looking at her.
In that moment, fireworks reflecting on her face, her grin like nothing he'd ever seen, he wanted to kiss her. Desperately. It was like a physical ache, a tug at his heart. He'd never experienced it before. Certainly not with any of the witches he had dated; no, those had been brief things, a flash in the pan, as Muggles said. Not surprisingly, Draco had issues with connecting to other people on an emotional level, he was self-aware enough to have realized that by now.
But Hermione was his friend, and that made all the difference. They'd been childhood enemies, then that had only gotten worse as the years progressed. Then they were brief allies, then they were tolerant classmates, then they were friends, and now best friends. And now Draco liked her. He liked her a lot. It sounded childish, a silly expression that couldn't possibly equate to the enormity of what he felt, but the word was true.
He liked everything about her, even the things he himself had once mocked her for. Maybe it would be foolish, to try, but Draco knew that he'd cute himself forever.
So he lent forward slightly, tilting towards her, still looking up at the sky.
Hermione pulled away, rising her wrist to examine her watch's face in the moonlight.
"It's 12:00," she said. She turned, knee tucked up on the wall, eyes alight.
"Happy New Year, Hermione," Draco said, feeling something deflate in his chest.
"Happy New Year, Draco," Hermione replied.
Then she kissed him.
This wasn't like the others, wasn't a meagre kiss on the cheek.
No, Hermione Granger kissed him, squarely on the mouth and without hesitation.
Draco kissed her back, resisting the urge to let his fingers tangle in her hair, to pull her closer and let the warmth of her rush over him like a river. So he kept his hands firmly planted on the wall, feeling the latticeworks of the brick dig into the skin of his palms.
Hermione was the first to pull away, but she let her hand linger on his cheeks for the barest of seconds, as if she couldn't help herself.
Draco sat frozen.
"Goodnight," she said, and Apparated away before Draco could get a word out.
"Goodnight, Granger," he said into the empty air.
Draco stayed on the wall, long after the fireworks had all gone out.
So that was what it was supposed to feel like.
Hermione leant against her bedroom door, hand over her mouth, heart racing.
Oh, she thought, that's what it's supposed to feel like.
Author's Note: Hello, everybody! Happiest weekend to you all! I'm sorry that this chapter was so short, but since it's chapter thirty, I wanted to do something special, and I think this scene needed to be self-contained, don't you agree?
Yey, they finally kissed! I was going to wait, but I thought this was the perfect moment for it, and even I'll admit that writing this slow-burn was driving me a little insane, too! It's funny, I'm not usually one for slow-burns, and yet I ended up writing one. What did you think? Should I have waited? Or was it slowly getting to you, too? Let me know!
The next chapter will be back to Hogwarts, and there's going to be some unusual developments going on. When I first had the idea for this fic, I'd never got past the tent scene. But then I started thinking about the characters, about them growing up and becoming adults, getting jobs. So, these next chapters will begin to explore that, almost as if this was the first part of the story, and the rest will be part two. I can't wait to share it with you, but first, I've got to write it.
So stay tuned!
All my love to each and every one of you, Temperance