In the quiet aftermath she wrapped the ice in the cloth and brought them over to Draco, sitting uneasily next to him on the couch. He took them from her without a word and closed his eyes. She bit her lip to stop herself from saying something stupid, something she hadn't had time to think through. He had been so quick to promise his future to her tonight, and she didn't even know what it was that she felt for him. Her words hadn't been a lie, and she was sure that that fact alone hurt him more than the words themselves.

If she was honest with herself, she knew better than to allow herself to get tangled in the mess that was Draco Malfoy. His dates were under the scrutiny of witch weekly, nearly every week and his family had hated her before she had even met them. Hermione knew that he had distanced himself from his family after the war, but history can't be changed.

These last few days had been a disastrous whirlwind and she had barely even been able to process one thing before the next tossed her down and kicked her in the ribs. Hermione had hoped that taking a few days off work, away from Draco, and Harry and everyone might have helped but all it did was muddy her thoughts more.

Hermione was tired, above all else, she was so so tired. Tired of working herself into a mess of confused feelings: hate, longing, fear, and disappointment. Tired of cleaning up after Ron, tired of hiding when Harry came to check on her, and tired of orbiting circles around Draco Malfoy.

She needed to say something to him, but what, she wasn't sure. She wanted to scream and cry, but neither happened. Instead she sat next to Draco and tried to get control over her shaking hands. A metallic tang on her tongue told her she had bitten her cheek too hard, but aside from swallowing it down, she didn't have it in her to care. All she wanted was to be alone, to sleep off this mess and wake up fresh tomorrow. Everything else would come after.

"Granger? You alright?"

She opened her eyes and blinked, not remembering closing them in the first place. He was watching her warily, the small lines around his eyes were more pronounced in the soft lamp light. The bloody cloth covered the lower half of his face, but she could make out the tight line of his lips and the tension that rested in his jaw. He was beautiful, even like this.

"Draco…" she whispered.

He raised an eyebrow, an indicator for her to go on.

Her tongue was like wet plaster slowly drying to the roof of her mouth. Everything she wanted to say, everything she had considered saying over the last few days flooded her mind, her mouth. Instead all she could muster was, "Let me fix your nose."

"It's fine Granger, no need for you to do it."

"Well are you going to St. Mungos then?"

"No."

Draco stood up, flinching from the motion and checked the rag for fresh blood. He cursed quietly and shuffled into the kitchen. The water came on a moment later and she was mercifully alone. Only Hermione realized as she waited for him to return, that she didn't want to be alone.

She wanted to be at peace.

When Draco returned, her hand flew to her mouth to stifle the gasp that tried to escape. The skin under his eyes looked worse; angry red bruises had crept up, showing themselves now.

He stopped dead. "What?"

"Draco… I'm so sorry."

"For what Granger?"

"Your eye is… the bruising is awful, please let me fix it."

"No Granger, leave it alone, it was my fault." He shrugged and looked around the room. After too much silence and too much time had passed, he said, "I should go."

She wanted to argue but no matter how hard she tried, she still couldn't find the words to make him stay. She was a coward. Every nerve burned in embarrassment because of it. She had been too afraid to tell Ron no, so she ran; and now she was doing it again. What happened to the girl that fought and defended others, never backing down even for herself? When did she retreat into this part of her that was ruled by cowardice? When had she traded her fearlessness for fear?

Draco had slipped on his coat and was standing near the fireplace when her tears finally started to fall. She didn't want to cry in front of him again but she couldn't stop it. Her life had become a mess and she hated it; she resented the feelings of helplessness and pathetic self pity that had coated her skin like brittle armour since she left Ron. All she could do was watch as his pale hand reached into her pot of floo powder and waited there. He was giving her one last chance to say something.

Say something, say something, say something.

He sighed and with the smallest shake of his head, he tossed his handful of powder into the fireplace and stepped back as it roared to life in a plume of green flames.

Clearing his throat, he said loudly, "Draco Malfoy's apartment."

His left foot crossed into the fireplace first and she knew if he left, he was taking with him the last dregs of her courage.

"Draco, wait," she croaked, her words breaking.

He spun to face her just as his other foot crossed the threshold and his expression changed. Regret and hurt flashed across his face just before he disappeared.

Too late.

Hermione stared at the dark, empty fireplace and thought about following him. She considered getting her bag and throwing herself into the fireplace after him. She didn't want to be alone, and with so much left unsaid, she was sure she wouldn't sleep anyways. A flicker of something sparked in her, and she clenched her eyes shut to keep a wavering grip on it.

Merlin, what was wrong with her? She faced down the dark lord and his snake, destroyed horcruxes and fought in a bloody war. Hell, she had even offered Harry her hand to hold as he walked into the forest to die. Not once flinching as she faced the same ugliness and cruelty this world had thrown her way since she was eleven. She had been brave for so many years.

Where had it gone?

Her heart hammered away in her chest and a restlessness took hold. She wouldn't wait to see if he came back; this time she would take the leap.

The couch creaked as she jumped to her feet. She could do this. She had to do this. Before she could even wipe her eyes she was stepping into the bright green flames, and following him like she should have done in the first place.

--

Bits and pieces of fireplace grates passed before her, mere whispers of what existed beyond them. Everything shifted as she hurtled through the space between the waking world and the floo network, until a singular grate materialized in front of her. Closer and closer she came to it until she thought she would crash right into it. At the last moment it opened up to receive her, and she crashed through the gate onto the polished wood floors of Malfoy's apartment.

Hermione coughed and wiped a bit of soot off of her hands. Everything was just a bit off kilter, not enough to fully disorient her, but enough to make her stay on the floor for a few more moments. Strong hands were already under her arms, helping her to her feet.

"Granger," Draco breathed, his hands moving gently from under her arms to rest just below her shoulders.

"Draco, I'm sorry," she said, once her feet didn't feel like fleeing from under her.

"For what Granger? There's nothing to be sorry about." Though his actions said otherwise, his words were icy shards that prickled as they bit into her skin. He closed his eyes as if he could see the small wounds they caused. "That came out wrong," he said tersely.

She allowed herself a moment to savour the warmth his fingers gave her; thawing the chill that coated her skin from his words. At last she pulled away and stared at him.

"I'm sorry that I got you mixed up in all of this, and I'm sorry that Ron punched you, and I'm sorry that I said those things back there, and—"

His lips crashed into hers, and the rest of her apology was washed away with what was left of her common sense. Between one breath and the next, she leaned into the kiss. His hands caressed her arms, coming around to rest on her back. She hesitated a moment before her hands snaked their way up to his hair. It was soft beneath her fingers, and as she ran her hands through it she wondered if she was in a dream. Hermione stood on her toes to reach him better, and his lips parted. She took the chance to kiss him deeper, her tongue sliding over his bottom lip, and he responded eagerly. Every inch of her body was on fire. She wanted him to keep kissing her; to keep the connection between their bodies burning.

He was the first to pull away, groaning quietly. It took her a moment to adjust to the waning heat, and when she finally met his stare, he grimaced.

"Sorry."

Heat crept into Hermione's cheeks, and she stepped away from Draco. "Sorry? No Draco, I wanted to."

He held his hand up to his nose and his fingers came away bloody.

"I…" her hand flew to her mouth as she stumbled over her thoughts, "I completely forgot, I… oh my god." She swiveled around, looking for some way to help before settling on going to the kitchen for a towel.

"Granger," Draco called, but she ignored him in her search for something to help.

Why did he not have a towel anywhere? What kind of wizard didn't have things around in case of a broken nose, she thought irritably. There's no reason to not have things on hand. Draco of all people should know how important it is to be prepared.

"Hermione."

She spun around, one hand still holding a wooden spoon, the other clutching a loose serviette. Hermione sighed and shook her head, "I'm an idiot." She dropped both items on the counter and pulled out her wand. "Accio towel."

Draco laughed, warm and deep. It was a sound she had only heard a handful of times over their years working together. He had been serious and withdrawn when they first started working together, but over the years and over many late nights, he had slowly warmed up to her. Still, he seemed to reserve a part of himself for outside of work hours and she hadn't—until recently—seen it yet. To know that despite everything raining down around them, she had settled him enough to laugh so openly, stilled something inside her.

"Will you please get over here and fix my nose."