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Each Other

By: Breeze

Her eyes frantically searched the large hotel room. The room had been practically spotless when she had left. Unsurprisingly, Malfoy was a neat freak. But it was now in shambles and gave away the aftermath of a fight. One of the windows had been broken, along with a lamp and the television that were both flickering. The silence was chilling as she took a step away from the door, hearing it lock behind her. She had left the room for only ten minutes. She held her wand out in front of her tightly, her mind racing, screaming at her. They had stayed here too long. A week was too long.

The early morning sun streamed through the window, and she quickly glanced out over the Paris skyline. She felt her stomach lurch as she realized she couldn't stay in the same city for over a week. What would happen when they ran out of cities? Could they hide forever?

It had only been a month since they left London, and the scene with Dumbledore had taken place. And things were only getting worse. She pushed the thought out of her mind and focused her attention back on the current matter. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the trail of blood leading to the bathroom. She walked towards it, opening the door cautiously, and, for one of the few times in her life, she was relieved to see Draco Malfoy.

He was sitting on the floor, his back leaning against the white tiles that covered the side of the bath tube and blended into the floor. His fluffy spiked hair had several streaks of red in it. His eyes were closed, but his hand still rested on his wand, lying next to him on the floor. His black clothing clashed with the white floor.

She hesitated a few moments, staring at him, not sure what to do. She had never seen him so undone. So near defeat. After a few uneasy seconds, she slowly went to his side and squatted next to him. He stayed still, and she was beginning to worry about him. She reached out and lightly touched the hand that was resting on his wand. He jerked slightly but then relaxed.

"Malfoy?" Her voice was full of question. "What happened?"

"There were only three, Granger." He didn't open his eyes. "They were waiting for one of us to be alone." He finally looked at her, his gray eyes locking with her own. He looked tired.

"Are you hurt?" He nodded once, his eyes not leaving her own. She glanced around the bathroom and noticed the mirror was shattered. Blood was dripping off the counter top. "Where?"

"Lower back and left shoulder blade." His voice was monotonous. She guessed there was more to the story than what he was telling her. Still, first things first.

"Alright, stand up and take your shirt off." She stood up as he cocked an eyebrow at her.

"I knew you couldn't wait to get my shirt off, Granger." She glared at him, seeing the evil dance in his eyes. She reached out her hand to help him up.

"I really need to figure out that permanent-shutting-of-ones-mouth spell." She smirked as she saw him try to think of a clever comeback, only to give up. She figured he was too weak to bicker right now. Then, the smirk slowly faded away as he pulled the black sweater over his head. She saw him wince painfully. She had seen him with his shirt off plenty of times over the last month, but it still caused her to flush. He didn't have huge muscles, but they were still lean and defined.

Appealing.

Before he could see her slight blush, she walked around him and held up her wand. She looked at the cuts for a moment. The wound on his lower back would heal completely with a small chant, but the one on his shoulder would take a few days to fade. She quietly whispered the words, silently wishing she knew more advanced healing spells. Every few seconds, he would twitch with pain but remained quiet.

"I'm sorry." He laughed dryly at her words. He knew she was apologizing for more than the pain the healing was causing him. She felt slightly hurt at his laugh because she had meant it.

"For what, Granger?" She wasn't sure how to say it. She cautiously ran her hand across the cut on his shoulder, her fingers brushing the now deeply bruised skin. She felt small chills run through her.

"I shouldn't have left. I don't know," he turned around quickly, "we're supposed to help each other, Malfoy." He smirked at her.

"I think we're beyond help, Granger." He wasn't being sarcastic. He wasn't trying to upset her. It was only the truth, and she knew it.

"So, this is it? This is how we spend the rest of our life? Waiting for them to find us?" He touched her arm, taking a step closer to her, leaving almost no space between their bodies. It was happening again. In the last week, they had almost kissed twice. Both of them had run from the near kisses. Both of them were ignoring it.

Still, she had that feeling in her stomach. And that place where her heart and her throat met was dancing again. She looked up at him, his face stone, his eyes alive.

"That's what they keep telling us, Granger." His hand slowly grazed her collarbone. He wrapped his other around her waist. Her eyes closed. How was this happening again?

"We should leave. It's not safe here." She opened her eyes. There was something in his own she couldn't read. Something so strong. Something that made her stomach do flip-flops.

"Do you mean unsafe in France?" He was beginning to rub small circles on her neck, making it hard for her to breathe. "Or is the unsafe place being this close?"

"I told you, I don't want this." Her voice was weak.

"Neither do I." His voice was husky. He slowly bent down, his lips hovering in front of her own. She closed her eyes again. "But this won't go away."

"Don't." The word was less than a whisper. And even if he had heard it, he didn't listen. The kiss was full of pain and beauty, their mouths finding their resonance against each other, echoes of the soft, breathless murmurs that left her knees weak. His lips were seeking, warm and soft, firm and tender. Her body was rebelling and forgetting as his tongue slid under her upper lip, softly pleading entry, and she allowed his mouth to capture hers and plunge into it.

A tiny moan broke from her throat as he gently slid his fingers over her ribs, tracing the soft concave of her stomach, then down to her hips as he guided them toward his own. Her hands wanted to know the contours of him, and they traveled over his chest slowly.

Suddenly, unbelieving and shocked, Draco broke away. Her mind seemed to instantly kick in again the second his lips left her own, and the shock of what she'd just done registered. Without another word, she turned and fled from the room, and he was left standing there.

She began frantically packing her bag, tossing her clothes into it harshly. After a few moments, she felt him staring at her, his eyes boring into the back of her head. Her hands were shaking as she zipped up the heavy bag. She turned to face him and glared.

"What, Malfoy?" Her voice was sharp. He had put his shirt back on, and he looked cocky.

"You're blushing, Granger." She gave him a death glare.

"I hate you." She spat her words at him. He walked towards her, advancing quickly. She didn't move and stood her ground. He reached out and put a finger through her belt loop. He yanked on it, causing her to take a step closer.

"Likewise, Granger." And he was suddenly kissing her again.

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She didn't look at him. Even though he was asleep and his eyes were closed, she avoided eye contact all together. She had become very good at it, she had to admit to herself. Usually, she would scold herself for not facing her problems head-on, but in this case, she was giving herself leniency. Hell, if she could, without endangering her own life, she would allow herself to go screaming in the other direction. Yet, she couldn't because her life did depend on it.

On him.

On the other hand, her sanity was something she was quickly losing more of. Or, as Harry had put it when she had called him two days earlier, something she could spare for the time being. She wasn't sure whether or not she agreed with him. He, of course, was not aware of the kiss. Or kisses. She quickly put her head in her hands as she thought back to what had happened two days earlier. They had kissed. More than once. Of course, after the second time, she had pulled away and practically hexed him to death. But it had happened. And the uncomfortable tension between the two had grown with each moment.

And she was crying.

Hermione Granger was finally letting it hit her, everything in one swift moment of unbelievable heaviness. And she felt like she couldn't breath. After a month and a half away from home, from the people and job she loved, she was finally crying. She stared out the window toward the empty street, a single streetlight a few stories below her illuminating her lightly. The rain made a light digging noise as it hit the window. She wrapped her arms around herself tighter as the tears slid down her cheeks. She wanted to go home. She wanted to see her parents and have them tell her everything would be okay. She wanted everything but what she had.

Her mind drifted back toward the end of the war. How foolish she had been to think it was over. They were all fools to think that all of Voldemort's supporters would vanish quietly into the night. Their attacks had been frequent and strong, but she had still thought herself safe and her own days of fighting over. She hadn't realized at the time that her own fight was just beginning. Her own battle was only about to get a thousand times worse and then some. That some of the most dangerous and vile creatures in the magic world were out to kill her. To destroy her with one swift hex. And the worst part of the whole situation…

Her two best friends weren't by her side.

For the first time in her young life, she was without them. Without them when the boggart goes bump in the closet. No, she was on her own when it came time to be on the run of her life. One not about the boy-who-lived and his life, but only about the cleverest witch of their time. A muggle-born witch, no less. She really missed Ron and Harry but knew that they had their own issues to worry about. Harry was still… well, Harry. She had concluded that his life would never be simple. And Ron, well Ron had a baby girl to think of. They were all now in different places. She lightly pushed away another tear only to have it be replaced by another, the wet drops tickling her flushed cheeks. She didn't care; she was all alone.

"Granger?" His deep voice filled her ears. Well, almost alone. She didn't look at him, only stared blankly out the window. She heard the rustle of the bed sheets and his feet hit the floor. "Granger, are you hurt?" His voice was not full of concern. It wasn't full of anything. It was just a question. An empty question.

"No." Her answer was just as blank. She wasn't embarrassed. She didn't care what he thought about her right now. Didn't care if he called her weak or girly. She was too upset to care. Her chin rested light on her knees as she pulled them closer to her chest.

"Then why are you crying?" She wanted to tell him, suddenly. Wanted to explain to him that she was deeply homesick and confused. Wanted to tell him everything that was causing her lungs to burn. To put it all on the table.

"No reason." He took another step and sat on the sofa across from the windowsill she was sitting on, his elbows on his knees as he leaned towards her. She didn't need to look at him to see the smirk on his face. She didn't want to see the smirk on his face. She didn't want to look at him. She would only cry harder.

"Granger, people don't cry for no reason." She lightly snorted at his comment.

"What do you care, Malfoy? You're practically one of them." Her voice was cold and unkind. One she was unaware she was capable of. She was half expecting him to slam her against the window and scream at her. But he didn't move.

"That's not true, Granger, and you know it." His voice was angry, though. She knew that voice of his. She finally turned her head to face him, her left leg falling off the sill and his back pressing against the cold glass. Another tear slid down her face as she looked him up and down.

"Do I?" She crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow. "Do I really know that for sure Malfoy? One day you're your daddy's pride and joy. The next you're helping the order, and then you're the love of my life. How can I be sure of anything about you, when everything I thought I knew about you ended up completely wrong?" She lightly choked on a small sob.

"Well, we all can't be as predictable as you, Granger." He didn't say it condescendingly. He said it knowingly, like saying the sun was bright.

"I'm not predictable, Malfoy. I'm normal." The smirk on his face grew as she shot back the comment.

"You, Granger, are anything but normal." He reached out and grabbed her right leg and pulled it off the sill, planting both her feet firmly on the floor. "And you're braver than this." He pointed toward her tears. "So I'm going to ask you again. Why are you crying, Granger?" She thought for a few moments before smiling.

"I want to go home." She looked down at the floor. She didn't want him to a laugh at her straight to her face. He leaned forward and smirked the same as he had the day they'd kissed. But he didn't laugh.

"Granger, whether we like it or not, I think this is the closest to home we're going to have for a while." She didn't know if she should cry harder or laugh outright. But, despite what her head was screaming, her heart knew he was right. She glanced out the window again.

"Yeah, Malfoy, home sweet home."