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Chapter four

Hermione rolled over in bed, realizing that the dull pounding was not just the result of a bad dream. Her mouth felt…thick. Sitting up, Hermione rubbed at her eyes, trying to rid them of sleep. She blinked a few times, trying to ignore the ache that permeated her brain. All she wanted to do was to burrow under the covers and sleep until she felt better. What she got was Andrew, bursting loudly through the door. He was holding a large tray, the one she used to serve him breakfast in bed on special occasions.

"Rise and shine sleepyhead!" Andrew sang in a stiff voice. He waddled over to the bed, gently resting the tray in her lap. "I was wondering when you were going to wake up." Hermione glanced down at the food on the tray before her; a banana, a cup of yogurt and a cup of tea. She smiled. It's the thought that counts, Hermione told herself, carefully peeling the banana and taking a hearty bite. Andrew waited for her to swallow before looking at her with wide, inquisitive eyes.

"You both came in awful late last night," he remarked conversationally. Hermione nodded, not feeling up to reliving the night before. Vague memories floated through her head; clips of the conversation, shots of the scene around them. It was like piecing together a jigsaw puzzle. Hermione sipped her tea, her tongue curling involuntarily at the bitter liquid. "Did you have fun?"

"It was fun, catching up." Hermione murmured softly, her eyes going glassy with the memory. After leaving the pub they had walked around a little, mulling over different parts of their schooling years. They had dissected their relationship, identifying the bad moments and laughing over the pleasant ones. It had been fun; the first bit of fun that Hermione had had in a long time.

"I found this on your nightstand this morning," Andrew said, holding something out to Hermione. She reached out, realizing it was her engagement ring. She had tucked it into her bag when she left the pub and upon returning home she had dug it out, not wanting to lose it in the depths of her purse, but not wanting to put it back on quite yet either. Apparently I should have thought that one out better, Hermione considered weakly. Truthfully, it was much too early—and loud—to be thinking about anything, much less what she had done with her ring.

"I didn't want to lose it," Hermione said truthfully. She had dug it out of her bag in order to keep it from getting lost after all, so technically it wasn't a lie. Andrew raised his eyebrows skeptically.

"So, why didn't you keep it on?" He pressed. Hermione shrugged, rubbing her head. She leaned in, staring Andrew straight in the eye.

"Andrew, Draco and I share a lot of things from my past, but I guarantee that you have absolutely nothing to worry about—do you understand me?" Hermione asked. Briefly, she thought back to the night before—when she kissed Draco across the table. And then once more when they had gotten home. Both of those were completely innocent though, Hermione told herself. They didn't mean anything! Still, she had trouble keeping the images from her head. The feelings too—the feelings of security and warmth and passion and fire and everything else that she hadn't felt since—since the last time she had been with Draco. She couldn't forget all of it, but she could sure as hell try.

"I'm glad to hear that." Andrew said as if he had just closed a business deal. He leaned in, gracing her forehead with a stiff kiss. "I'm going to be at the office again today but I'll be back for lunch." He said curtly, sliding off the side of the bed. Hermione smiled at him, waiting until he had walked out of the room before she slid back under the covers.

Hermione managed to drag herself out of bed three hours later, feeling heavy with exhaustion. It took all her strength to drag herself to the bathroom where she sat down in the shower, let the hot water beat over her tired body, and seriously considered never getting out. Finally though, she stood, washing the last bit of sleep from her system. What's wrong with me, Hermione asked herself, recalling her actions of the night before. She had been so—happy. I'm happy with Andrew though, Hermione told herself firmly. I love Andrew. I love Andrew. I am going to marry Andrew. I want to marry Draco—oh god where did that come from? Hermione was surprised by her silent declaration. She knew that Draco inspired certain feelings in her, but she had never considered marrying him. Even back when they were in school and had picked up with one another she had never considered it. Things were just too complicated to think of making it work long term. They were just two different; things would never work out for them. Things can't work out for us; Hermione told herself firmly, I'm marrying Andrew. No matter how many times she said it though, she couldn't get rid of the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

An hour later Hermione had dressed, done her hair and make up, and felt prepared to join the land of the living once more. She wandered through the house, numbly picking at things, adjusting the photographs ("Why don't they move?" Draco had asked the second day he was there) and sweeping up any bit of dirt she could find. She wasn't just organizing and cleaning out the house; she was organizing and clearing out her head as well. She knew she needed to think; think about what she wanted and from whom, but she couldn't even get the smaller things through her head.

"Need help?" Draco's voice drawled behind her. She turned to face him as he drew his wand out from his pocket. He flicked it temptingly and immediately a pile of books that Hermione had been putting back onto the shelf jumped neatly into their designated spots. Draco poised the wand again and stared at Hermione as if waiting for her to signal that it was okay for him to continue. Instead, she sighed and brushed a nonexistent hair from her face.

"No Draco," she began slowly, unsure of how to phrase her feelings. "I—I think it would be best if you left. You've—I've just gotten really confused." Draco cocked his head to the side as if waiting for her to explain more. When she didn't, he took the opportunity to share his piece.

"Maybe that's an indication that I should go yet." He reasoned, slipping his wand back in his pocket. Hermione shook her head.

"No—I really think you should be going. After last night—well, I think it would be best if you just ducked out." Hermione paused. "Today." Hermione had tried to be tactful in kicking Draco out but he didn't seem to notice.

"Hermione, I'm not going anywhere." Draco said simply, his tone flat and unnerving. Hermione squirmed.

"You don't have a choice Draco. I want you out of the house by dinner. I'll help you find a hotel if you want." Hermione stated, matching Draco's flat tone. Draco shook his head in annoyance, tossing his hands in the air as if Hermione wasn't understanding the obvious.

"Hermione—did last night mean anything to you?" He demanded, anger coating his tone. She crossed her arms, staring at him defensively.

"Nothing happened last night!" She declared loudly. Draco looked at her like she was crazy.

"Nothing happened? Nothing happened? How about you laughed for the first time in—years I'm guessing. How about you smiled more than I've seen in the week or so that I've been here. How about you kissed me, not once but twice?" Draco demanded. Hermione's mind fumbled through the nights events. Had she really laughed? Had she really smiled? Wait, Hermione corrected herself, of course I laughed and smiled, I do it all the time. Don't I? Now that she was thinking about it, doubts started to flood her mind. When had been the last time she had genuinely laughed at something Andrew said? She couldn't remember.

"Wait," Hermione began suddenly, realizing what he had said, "You kissed me the second time!" She snapped. Draco shook his head, a smile coming to his smug face.

"I most certainly did not. I distinctly remember you kissing me in the pub and then when we were walking!" He shot back. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Of course I didn't! I kissed you—on accident—at the pub and then you took advantage of my vulnerability and drunkenness to kiss me again." Draco stepped towards Hermione, his eyes flashing deviously.

"If I had kissed you, I know you would have remembered it," he teased. Hermione stared at him skeptically.

"Are you implying that my kisses aren't memo—oomph!" Hermione began hotly but was cut off suddenly when Draco's mouth came crashing down on hers. His hands flew to her waist and dragged her towards him, pressing her warm body against his own. He could almost feel the violent thumping of her heart against his chest as she struggled for a moment and then melted helplessly in his arms. There was no use resisting—she knew she couldn't bear to push him away. Not again. Hermione's hands gripped Draco's biceps, bracing herself against his firm grasp. They stumbled for a minute, losing their balance momentarily, both unwilling to let eachother go. Finally, the two settled against the couch, leaning heavily into eachother. They stayed like that for ages, soaking in the feel of eachother.

And that was how Andrew found them when he came in an hour later, expecting his lunch.