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Each Other

By: Breeze

"Would you save him, Hermione?" Her eyes searched the fog, trying desperately to see the owner of the voice. She didn't know whom it belonged to. She had never heard it before, yet it was still so familiar.

"Save who? Who are you?" she called. There was a deep laugh, and she knew in her heart that she had heard it before. That same menacing growl. But where?

"Would you give your life for his own? Your dreams?" the voice asked condescendingly. She glared at into the fog.

"Who are you talking about?" she demanded.

"I am speaking of the one you are destined to." It said simply. She knew then what the voice was saying to her, who it was talking about. She could here its laughter again. She knew that voice, she was suddenly so sure. "Would you, Hermione?" She knew she shouldn't be listening to the voice. But it had struck a cord with her subconscious. Would she be there for him when he needed her? So much had changed, was still changing. Every day that went by, they seemed to be farther away from reality, caught in their own world and troubles, letting no others in. Both paranoid, not of being killed, but of each other. The feelings for him had gone from loathing to liking, if not more. "Could you?" the voice questioned again.

"I—I don't know." And that was the truth. She didn't know. Before she knew what was happening, a hand wrapped around her neck. She couldn't breathe or think. A hot and foul breath enveloped her senses. She felt like her neck was going to break.

"Could you love him?"

Her eyes flew open and she had to keep herself from screaming out in pain, had to keep herself from losing control. She had felt like she was dying. It had been so real. Yet she kept perfectly still, her head continuing to lie on the pillow, facing the sleeping man next to her. His chest rose and fell softly every few seconds, and his blond hair was a complete mess. Staring at him now, he suddenly seemed so very different than the royal pain in her ass that he usually was. In fact, it had only been last night that he had, in his own way, comforted her. She had been upset and he had made the effort to console her.

Yet she was still not sure how to talk to him. In fact, when he had finally coaxed her into going to sleep last night, they hadn't even said good night. They'd just fallen asleep.

It was still raining outside. It had rained all day and she now knew for a fact that the weather was mimicking her mood. She pulled the blanket closer to her body as she shivered, thinking about the voice. She knew that voice, but didn't. She wished she had a book right now to read. One with all the answers to her problems. A book with the answers to the questions that that voice had asked her. Could she love him? No, not yet at least, she hadn't given him the chance. She'd never looked at him in that way.

Who was he?

She had asked herself this question a thousand times throughout the day. Was he the muggleborn hating pureblood? Was he the powerful wizard that had aided Harry in the battle with Voldemort? Was he the smooth lawyer? Or was he the man who had saved her life? Before she knew what she was doing, she had leaned over toward his side of the bed. She reached out to touch his face but pulled away quickly. After a few moments, she leaned over him, his face kind in the moonlight.

"Who are you?" she whispered delicately, her eyes searching his sleeping face. Searching for anything. He lightly stirred before relaxing back into his dreams. She smiled at him, her long brown hair falling to one side, a few strands brushing his chest. She slowly leaned forward, her head coming to a rest on his chest. For a few tense seconds, she held her breath, not wanting him to wake up. But he didn't, he continued sleeping. After a few moments, a large arm wrapped around her, pulling her closer to him. She buried her face into him, feeling for the first time, not only safe, but relaxed. She closed her eyes slowly and fell asleep.

For the first time since that day in the restaurant, she felt safe. And she dreamt of nothing.

His eyes slowly opened. The warm sunlight had been streaming through his eyelids, ending his deep sleep. He pulled the petite body closer to his own. The young women's faced came into view, and for a moment, he had the urge to push her away. But he didn't. The urge vanished and he found himself craving for their closeness to continue. Wanting her. In fact, he had felt that way ever since he'd kissed her. Everything he had been fighting, the disbelief and reluctance, came crashing down. Fate had slammed him in the head with a pair of soft pink lips. And, for some reason, he knew his dark life would never be the same again.

He touched her face lightly, pushing a few stray strands of hair out of her face. When had he memorized her features? He figured he would never know. Her eyes lightly fluttered open, and he suddenly was afraid. She had a tendency to hit when they got in close proximity. But she didn't hit him or glare. Her brown eyes searched his face, the curiosity playing on her features. And, in this moment, he realized she was beautiful. In her own simple way, she was absolutely beautiful. She smiled slightly, somehow hugging him closer, their entwined legs locking together.

"I asked you something last night." Her voice broke the silence. He looked into her eyes, furrowing his brow slightly.

"When?" 'Was she blushing?' he wondered.

"While you were asleep, Malfoy." Her voice was so faint, like a small child confessing an unfinished chore.

"What did you ask, Granger?" he questioned again. Her face suddenly became serious, her eyes somehow aging in front of his own.

"Who are you?" she asked. He gave her an odd look.

"What do you mean?" He could feel her pull away slightly, causing him to tighten his grip around her more. He wouldn't let her run this time. Her wand was on the nightstand, so she couldn't threaten to hex him.

"Which Malfoy are you? Mean one? Heroic one? This one? Which one are you, Malfoy?"

"Draco," he stated blankly. She looked surprised by his statement.

"What?" Her voice was once again soft.

"Draco. I'm all those things, Hermione." Her eyes widened. He had said her name before, of course, but it was the first time he had ever said it without disdain for her. He continued before she passed out. "You have to trust me."

"But do you trust me?" she quickly questioned. He smirked.

"I trust you to save my life unless you yourself are doing the killing." She smirked back in agreement. He smirked back and lifted an eyebrow. "And what is this?" he questioned, implying the position they were currently in. She cautiously took her free hand and reached for his own, the look on her face so obvious with fear. Slowly her fingers knotted with his own. She stared at their hands for a moment. He could feel her heart beating a thousand beats a second, the soft vibrations pounding on his own chest. Her eyes looked away from their hands and met his again.

"This is something that will happen, no matter what. It's fate." His hands fell from her own and wrapped around her waist, pushing her up till their faces were in front of each other.

"And how do you feel about that, Granger?" he said, his voice now turning husky. Their noses rubbed together, and he raised his mouth to hers, their lips touching lightly, fleetingly. His hand on her waist lightly touched the small scar. "There's no going back. We both have seen that." She looked him up and down.

"How do you feel about it, Malfoy?" she asked.

"Well, Granger, who asked who I am? And, the thing is, I don't know who you are, either." She creased her brow, causing her nose to scrunch up. "Don't give me that look, Granger, you are no open book." She rolled her eyes at him.

"And how is that?" She asked sarcastically. She had placed her head back onto his chest, her eyes gazing into his own. Both unaware at the new level of comfort they felt, the naturalness of being so close.

"Well, first of all, you are stubborn." She lifted her head again.

"What? I am not stubborn." He smirked at the shrill in her voice.

"Yes, you are, Granger."

"No, I'm not, Malfoy."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I am not," she growled. He raised his arms to show her he had given up.

"Okay, you're not stubborn. But the thing I don't get about you, Granger, is that one moment you're hexing me and the next you are crying. Now I wake up, and you're in my arms." He lightly tapped her head. "What's it like in there? What are you thinking?" She looked away and then back at him.

"I don't know you."

"I don't know you either, Granger," he shot back warmly.

"Why should I tell you everything when I don't know you, Malfoy?"

"It's like I said, Granger." He once again pulled her closer and kissed her lips. "Trust me." He said the words between small kisses. He let her lips go and she stared at him for a moment before climbing out of the bed. Quickly, before he had a chance to stop her or say anything, she went into the bathroom, and he heard the shower turn on. He jumped out of the bed and went to the door. It was locked, and he pulled out his wand. "Alohomora," he said quietly. He heard the lock click and slowly pushed the door open. The warm shower had caused the room to fill with steam. He saw Hermione staring into the foggy mirror. She had her arms crossed and was hugging herself slightly, her flannel pajama bottoms hanging of her small waist.

He took a step closer to her, and the door closed behind him. She didn't turn to face him, only looked into the clouded mirror.

"Hermione?" She didn't move. Her eyes reminded him of the encounter the other night. He walked towards her and stood behind her, his height causing him to tower over her. Her back was to him. He raised his hands and placed them on her small hips. He put his chin on her forehead and smirked. "What's going on in there?"

"We're never going to be safe, are we?" she asked him.

"No. We never will," he answered.

"And we will never be normal."

"No, Granger, we won't." His hands slowly slid up her waist, lightly touching her ribs.

"But there will always be a 'we,' won't there?" She turned and faced him, his hands pushing her against the counter top. He smirked a, if possible, sweet smirk. One she had never seen from him before. His eyes were tender.

"Yes, there will be, Granger." He lowered his mouth to her own.

"No going back," she whispered before his lips collided with hers once again. His hands skimmed the length of her arms, down to her fingertips and back again. Small goose bumps appeared on her skin. Hermione sighed, allowing Draco to deepen the kiss. His hands moved to her back. pulling her closer, feeling her small hands pull at the back of his neck roughly. She sighed and arched her back, her own body fitting against his own perfectly. After a moment, she pulled away, breathless and gasping for air. Her lips were red from being crushed by his own, her eyes alive. They were both smirking. His hands touched her face slightly.

"I knew you wanted me, Granger."

"Oh, shut your mouth, you cocky bast…" But he kissed her neck, causing her to suck in a breath. Her eyes closed once again. "Not… fair," she somehow blurted out.

"I never said… I was a fair… man," he said between small kisses. He pulled away from her neck and kissed her lips briefly again. Her eyes opened slowly. And for the first time in her life, she saw Draco Malfoy as, dare she say, sexy.

Unknown to them, downstairs in the lobby, a blond haired man, who was thought to be dead, was scowling as he made his way towards the elevator. Several darkly dressed followers were with him, all with a look of wickedness in their eyes.