Hermione felt, for the first time since Ron's death, that she was a woman once more. Not only in that she felt wanted, but in that Draco had awoken something dormant in her for three years. Even though she and Ron loved each other dearly, they had stopped making love when Hermione fell pregnant with their child. Five years after, Ron had died, and Hermione hadn't made love since. That was, until now. She knew what she had with Draco was irrational, ridiculously crazy, but she didn't really care.
How did we get onto the bed? she thought.
Draco, looking at her beside him, was almost shocked at how wild she had become. He never thought she would be so dominating, but at the same time submissive, or that he would meet his sexual match in her. When he thought about it, she had completely dispelled all his preconceptions about her.
He stroked her cheek softly.
"You don't regret this, do you?" she asked, quietly.
"No, why, do you?"
"Merlin no!" she said. "But… Draco, how did we get on the bed?"
The next few days began with the same thing; Hermione asking how they got to the place which they woke up. Draco would chuckle, and kiss her softly. Then they would take it in turn to make breakfast.
Hermione sent an owl to work everyday, saying that she had not recovered from a nasty bout of 'flu, and she would come in when she was better, but to send her updates of what was going on. She was, after all, Head of Department.
It was almost as if we were newlyweds, Draco thought one morning, whilst making breakfast. How odd that a thought like this could come to mind. But he had to agree with that thought. They couldn't keep their hands off one another.
Hermione couldn't work it out. Why had she stopped hating him? She supposed it was when he broke down about his Italian fiancée which had showed her that he had changed. But it could have been the day he had cleaned, and cooked a wonderful meal for her. She wasn't sure. She ran a finger along the now non existent wound. She knew that she would have to say goodbye today. She wasn't sure she could do it.
She rose from the bed, and stood by the window.
"Hermione?" Draco murmured, sitting up in bed.
"Go back to sleep, love."
"Come back to bed?"
Hermione was unaware that she had started crying until she felt the warm tears on her chest. wiping her eyes quickly, she made her way back to bed.
"What's wrong?" Draco asked.
"Nothing." she lied.
"No, there's something. Tell me." Draco stroked her arm. Hermione took a deep breath and took his hand in hers.
"Well, I told you that your wound would take about a week to heal, and that you had to stay with me until it healed, and now you're going to leave. I don't know if I can go back to being lonely. Not after this…"
"Oh, Hermione! Do you want me to go?"
"Of course not, Draco. But, do you want to go?"
