A/N: It took me a few days to get the dialogue right on this one. Phew! So glad to have figured it out. Enjoy.
Chapter 28
After spending the rest of breakfast talking about anything but what was going on between them, the two grabbed their bags and headed for the library. It was as the portrait closed behind them that Hermione asked, "So you're into the Weird Sisters?"
"I am. Are you?" He asked.
"No. Not really," she answered. "The only time I really listened to them was the Yule Ball. They were alright, but it didn't click with me."
"Ah. The Yule Ball." Draco looked like he was some place far away for a moment, then went on. "I'll remember that night forever. It was the first time I saw the Sisters live, and it was also the first time I saw you switch up your look. Today is the second time." He pointed to her ponytail.
She smiled and shrugged. "I felt like doing something different today. For the Yule Ball, I felt like doing something really different. That was… an interesting night."
"I'm sure. How was it? Dating Krum?" He sounded genuinely interested, so she figured she'd indulge him.
"Meh… He didn't talk very much. And when he did, it was about either quidditch or the tournament."
"I can't say I'm surprised. That's all he and I ever talked about with me, which I never minded. That, and…" he paused, and she looked over at him. "And we talked about you."
"Hm… I'm sure you didn't have anything too pleasant to say about me then."
"You are correct. As usual. It only happened a couple of times before he decided I was not the one to be having that conversation with. Any Slytherin, really. And that was when he decided we were all pretty much lost causes."
"I could believe it. He didn't believe in any anti-Muggle or anti-Muggleborn hogwash. He had that going for him at least… That and muscles, but muscles and tolerance don't make up for one's lack of conversational topics. Also, the bloke once claimed that he "didn't like music that much", which is a deal-breaker if I ever heard one. Who in the bloody hell says that? I'd die without music."
"It means that much to you, eh?"
"It does!" She said, looking to him as she reached the landing that would take them to the library. "It's one of the only things that makes sense anymore."
"I was going to say that you didn't seem like yourself when I arrived," he said, his voice lower than last he spoke, as if he was second guessing even saying it.
Hermione almost froze in her tracks at him mentioning exactly what she knew he'd notice, but she'd figured he wouldn't ever say anything at all. For a moment, she thought he'd ignore that she'd reached what she considered her all-time low. But she also supposed she'd walked into it.
"I… I haven't been feeling myself," she admitted.
"If it's any consolation, the war changed us all, Hermione." Draco said as he held the door to the library open for her.
"I appreciate that, but it really isn't," she said, leading the way to what some may consider "their" corner. "A consolation, that is."
"Look," he said, stopping her by taking her hand and turning her to face him. He wore the most sincere expression as he said, "It's not just you. None of us are alright. Not a single one of us."
For some reason or another, this conversation wasn't sitting well with the Gryffindor, so she said, "I don't want to talk about this, Draco. I don't. Not today at least."
"Eventually you will have to. Even if it's uncomfortable, or painful." Hermione frowned at him, though didn't move to say that what he was claiming was wrong. "But keep in mind that any day, any day you wish, I will listen when you're ready."
She had to smile at him for this, because he'd been the only person to ever offer this to her. Everyone else was so damaged that they didn't want to talk about it themselves. Her parents, though they'd been gone, hadn't wanted to broach the subject with her either. They could tell that she was off, and she had to consider the possibility that they'd either wanted her to come to them herself, or that they thought it was more damaging to bring it up. Either way, it hadn't happened, and no one besides Draco Malfoy had offered her solace in this way.
"But," he added, squeezing her hand affectionately. "I understand that you don't want to. I don't like to, either. That's why I spent the past few months in Muggle London instead of the manor. So I could avoid as many memories as possible."
She gave him a look as she said, "So that explains the clothes."
"And the earring," he added, pointing to it with a smile. She looked him up and down, and he asked, "You like it, don't you?"
Her smile grew as she nodded. "I do. It fits you somehow."
"Kind of like these trousers, huh?" He asked, letting go of her hand while turning about, as if he wanted to torture her. "They're nearly painted on, if we're talking about things that fit. But they make my arse look fantastic."
The witch tried like hell to keep the grin and bright pink flush spreading on her face from his sight. When that failed, she rolled her eyes and turned away from him, continuing on her journey as she said over her shoulder, "They're very agreeable."
"Aw! Only agreeable?" he asked, moving to catch up with her, which only took a couple of steps, considering his long as hell legs. "I think that you think they're more than agreeable."
She looked up to his grinning face, seeing that the expression gave away just how much of a go he was having at her, and she said, "Can we put this conversation on the back burner as well?"
"Sure," he consented, still smiling. "As long as you admit you're only doing so because you're blushing."
"Shut up, Malfoy," she said, the laugh in her voice unavoidable.
"Ah ha!" he exclaimed. "I knew it!"
