Encounters on the Balcony

by darksilvers

Featuring one particularly whiny Ronald Weasley, who has caught a severe case of the Iceslopes Chills. oneshot

Written for dmhgficexchange Hot Summer Nights, Exchange Story for noelanisitara

Title: Encounters on the Balcony
Author: darksilvers
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: AU (ignoring HBP), Ron-Bashing, Superlite Smut
Disclaimer: Harry Potter never was, isn't and never will be mine. I'm just borrowing.
Beta Credits: Many many thanks to bakaness for being my beta! I've probably murdered her with my horrible writing, but she has faithfully edited this for me in one night! Thanks once again!
b Summary/b Featuring one particularly whiny Ronald Weasley, who has caught a severe case of the Iceslopes Chills.

---

A/N: If you've noticed, I don't exactly fancy Ron. And I've added this here for you dears to enjoy whilst "We Collide" is still work-in-slow-progress

---

It was hot.

So, so hot.

Stifling, suffocating, sticky.

A girl lay on her bed, writhing among the warm damp sheets. She was semi-conscious, with beads of sweat gathering on her fair forehead. Squirming restlessly, she attempted to go back to sleep. But to no avail.

Hermione Granger angrily shot up in bed and stumbled out, legs tangled in the covers. With a soft cry, she landed unceremoniously on the ground and her unruly bed locks stuck to her sweaty neck. She swore under her breath. And Hermione Granger never swore. She cursed as often as Ronald Weasley did not. Well okay. Hermione Granger never used bad language… most of the time!

But tonight was one exception. It was absurdly hot! It was in the heat of summer and furthermore the entire house was covered with a heating charm… Because a certain Ronald Weasley had caught the Iceslopes Chills … right in the middle of summer! It was crazy! And Molly had insisted on spelling the whole place "in case of stray drafts that should venture into Ron's room and worsen his Chills". So the occupants of 12 Grimmauld Place had spent the better lot of the previous two days rummaging around for apparel that would clothe them minimally.

Hermione Granger sat on the warm wooden floor of the bedroom she shared with Ginny. She fanned herself and started to rummage around in the dark for hairtie, and finally found one on the dresser. With a sigh of relief, Hermione swept her curls into a loose bun high atop her head. It was messy, but it would do.

Hermione was very tempted to try a freezing charm over her bed, but Molly's household spells were more potent than her medicines. Not wanting to take the risk of getting hit by a backfire, Hermione slumped down on the dusty ground in defeat.

Think. Think. Think.

Hermione Granger was not called the brightest witch of her age for nothing.

Think. Think. Think.

Hot. Hot. Hot.

Brainwave!

Indeed, Hermione had an inspiration! Rising to her feet, she cautiously made her way to the door. She turned the knob ever so slightly, and to her relief, the door opened noiselessly. Taking one last look at the still-sleeping Ginny (How could she sleep through the heat! But then again, all Weasleys were heavy sleepers) she closed the door behind her.

The corridors of 12 Grimmauld Place were even stuffier than its rooms. They had an everlasting musty odour of dust and mothballs. The numerous spells the inhabitants of the house had yielded no results. The atmosphere was as inhospitable and stifling as ever.

Wanting to escape the suffocating heat of the hallways, Hermione hurried through them as fast as she could without making a sound. Instead of turning to left to head down to the main hall as everyone usually did, Hermione turned right and soon found herself at the foot of a rickety stair.

The balcony was a small windy little place near the attic. It was seldom used, but Molly still faithfully cleaned it every week. Hermione had only been up there once before with the boys to help Arthur carry down some old junk. It had only been that one time, but she remembered how breezy the balcony had been.

Her footsteps took her up the creaky staircase and onto the groaning floorboards of the top floor. Sweaty fingers came into contact with coarse frosted glass as she gingerly pushed the doors open. She was surprised to find that it was unlocked. Perhaps Molly had forgotten to lock it.

Hermione felt the welcoming draft hit her sweaty face as she eased her bare feet onto the cool stone floor. She made her way to the parapet, rested her elbows on its cool surface and leant against it to look at the street below.

Suddenly she heard a faint rustling to her right, and realized that someone was leaning against the parapet next to her.

"It's a quiet suburb." her companion commented.

Hermione turned to look at him, surprised.

"I didn't know you knew of this place."

"I helped clean out the junk that day, you know."

Hermione nodded and turned back to look at the street.

Draco Malfoy had moved in almost right after graduation, after both his parents had been murdered by the Dark Lord. When Dumbledore had brought him to Grimmauld Place at first, there was much hostility between Draco and Hermione, Harry and the Weasleys. Everyone had been suspicious and mistrustful when Draco had tried to be civil towards them; It was so out of character for him! However, after two weeks everyone gradually warmed to him after he unexpectedly saved Ginny from a particularly vicious Doxy attack. After that, everyone started making an effort in including him in conversations and activities – well everyone except Ron.

For some odd reason, the two nemesis's remained as antagonistic and vicious as ever; The both of them were still forever attempting to get at each other's throats and neither ever gave up a change to put the other down.

But right now, Ron was sick and thus Draco was in a fantastic mood. He seemed even more friendly than usual.

"Too hot to sleep?"

"How did you know?" It was more of a statement than a question.

Draco shrugged and sighed.

"Let's just say you're not alone."

"Oh. You're a light sleeper too?"

"Yeah."

And that's how they remained for another thirty minutes. They stood, staring into the night, as the silence stretched comfortably between them, both aching to breach it, but neither daring. Even this peaceful interlude couldn't override the politics that governed their lives.

Hermione turned to study the young man on her right. He had changed so much since Hogwarts. He was more mature, less malicious and was more understanding. But somehow, they just did not… "click", like how Draco and Harry managed to. Perhaps it was because he and Hermione did not have any "common ground". For one, the fact that both Harry and Draco were orphans seemed to create empathy between them. Hermione had also been caught in the middle of one of their now-infamous Quidditch arguments that usually resulted in avid discussions on playing tactics.

Hermione finally decided that the hush surrounding them was getting uneasy. Reluctantly she turned to her companion.

"Well, I guess I'll be going back to bed now."

"Yeah, you do that. Goodnight, Hermione." To her imagination, or so it seemed, his voice sounded almost wistful.

"Goodnight, Malfoy." And she left him staring down at the street.

The next night found Hermione sitting on her bed, sweating profusely again. Ron was still sick, his chills more violent than ever. Molly, in a worried frenzy, had doubled the heating charms. Strangely enough, the Weasleys and Harry seemed to be able to sleep.

Hermione did not even try to turn in this time, and made her way up to the balcony. She had a feeling that Draco might be there again.True enough, she caught a flash of platinum blonde hair in the shadows.

He greeted her with a welcoming smile.

"Too hot again?"

"Yeah. Poor Ron."

"Serves the Weasel right." Draco's tone changed from affability, to scorn in a wink.

It was Hermione's turn to sound contemptuous.

"I don't get why you and Ron can never get along. Malfoy, why can't you be more gracious towards him?"

"It's just the way things work. He's just below me." Flicking off an invisible piece of lint from his shirt as if it were Ron, Draco shrugged, then turned back to look at the streets below once again.

"Some people never change, do they, Malfoy?" she huffed, pushing herself off the balcony and turning to him, arms akimbo.

Draco merely leaned against the railing and coolly appraised her.

Unfazed, Hermione continued.

"You know, I used to believe in people. I used to believe that anyone could change for the better."

"You were so naïve."

"I know. I realized that. Thank you for helping me there." She finished derisively.

"Hermione – " Draco's voice now grew menacing. "I haven't changed? Not at all?"

"No." Hermione squared her jaw and met his gaze fiercely. "Not. One. Bit."

"Really?" he raised one eyebrow and stepped closer.

Hermione took a step back nervously, taking in that Draco was a full head taller than she was, and probably a great deal stronger.

"No." Hermione said again, but with much less resolve in her voice. Draco seemed to notice this.

"Hermione, Hermione. How can you say that? I'm hurt." He teasingly replied.

Hermione glared at him and let it loose.

"You're still the same selfish spiteful little prejudiced prick since First Year! You're still the same hateful little Daddy's boy! You'll always be an insufferable prat to me, and nothing will ever change that!" At her outburst, his grey eyes darkened to a metallic silver sheen.

"I'm not. I've changed." His voice lowered and softened. Anyone who knew Draco well enough would have fled at this.

"Do you have any idea how much I've been through? How much I've tried to block out my past? How much I've tried to change? How much I've tried to be nice to you, Harry and the Weasleys? And here you come, some righteous protector-of-people brat and tell me I haven't changed? Is that how you still see me? That spoilt little boy that used to call you MUDBLOOD?"

"Malfoy I –"

"Save it."

"I'm sorry I –"

"I don't need your apologies." Without waiting for a reply, Draco exited the balcony, leaving Hermione staring after him, alone with her thoughts.

The entire day was simply dreadful for Hermione. Feelings of guilt and regret kept welling up everytime she thought about the previous night. Thankfully, Dumbledore had dropped in early that morning and had taken Draco out to settle some of the remaining Malfoy accounts. That way, Hermione managed to avoid a confrontation with him.

Harry had noticed that something was bothering her, but she had brushed it off with a, "Golly, how could you sleep at all, Harry? I was up all night!"

That night, Hermione simply could not go back to sleep; Her guilt, coupled with the intense heat, was a more potent stimulant than caffeine. Hermione was very reluctant to make her usual pilgrimage to the balcony. She knew that he would be there, and she was afraid of facing him again, after all the accusations she had made. But soon her physical need for fresh air overtook her, and she found herself out on the balcony once more.

Draco was there in his pajamas, in his usual spot against the banister. Hermione drew a deep breath and began her speech that she had been practicing since lunch.

"Malfoy, I'm just really sorry. I've misjudged you and I've said many horrid, insensitive things I shouldn't have. And you're right. You've changed. And I know what I said last night was rude and hurtful and you'll probably never forgive me but I just want to let you know that I'm truly remorseful and I hope you'll accept my sincere apology."

Hermione stopped and tilted her head to look at Draco. To her immense surprise, he did not look at all angry. Rather, he looked somewhat… amused, his handsome face containing traces of a smile.

"Forget it. It's a past matter. Let's start afresh, shall we?" Hermione was even more surprised at his amiability.

"Friends?" he stuck his hand out. Hermione smiled and took his warm hand in her cool one.

"Friends." It was a simple gesture, childish really. But it sent jolts shooting up her arm and ignited a warm tingle in her belly. She slowly withdrew her hand.

The next day, Molly announced that Ron was much better and they were all finally allowed to visit him in his little quarantine. Hermione, Harry, Ginny, and the twins decided to pay him a visit together to cheer him up. Not wanting to make Draco feel left out, Hermione invited him along.

"Provided you be nice."

"I'll try."

"You'll BE nice."

"If you insist." His tone was indifferent, but his face showed faint traces of amusement.

The six of them entered the room where Ron had been isolated for the past three days.

"Oh Mione! I am going to die!" Always the dramatist, Ron pushed his skinny frame up as the group surrounded his bed.

"Shut up, Ron. The worst is over. You'll pull through." Pointing a finger at him, she added as an afterthought, "And that's Hermione to you."

Ron ignored this and continued with the melodrama.

"Good lords, I want to go out and play! And do you know the food I've been served here? It's damn hot and tastes like water! Gods, it was hell!"

"Well Ron, we're glad to see you too." Harry patted his best friend's bony shoulder.

"And boy am I glad to see you guys. I've only seen Mum day in and day out. And it's always 'Ron! Where's your hot water bottle?' and 'Ron! Drink this soup now!'" and Ron dissolved into a coughing fit.

"Touching." A new voice drawled from the back of the room.

"Malfoy!" Ron sputtered. "What the hell is he doing here?"

"He is here to visit you, Ronald. Be nice."

"I can't. He's annoying me."

"Stop whining Ron, or I'll hex you." Ginny now piped up, obviously as irritated as Draco. "We came here to visit you and catch up. If you are going to whine, we're leaving."

"Well said, Ginny." Draco nodded in approval.

Ron's mouth fell open in shock. "Since when are you guys on a first-name basis? Oi, is there anything going on?"

"What on earth are you blabbering about Ron!" Ginny rolled her eyes, once more infuriated at her brother.

"Yeah, bro, we've been calling Malfoy, Draco since… a month ago. Where were you?"

"Well, I still call him Malfoy… and Hermione still does too."

Five people turned to stare at Hermione.

"Really? But Hermione! I always thought you were the friendliest of al!" George joked, but no one seemed to be laughing.

"Yeah Hermione, it's rather strange, come to think of it." Harry looked concerned.

"Er well, I think we'd better go unless we want to catch Ron's virus. Get well soon." Hermione abruptly left in a flurry of curls.

"Oi! Mum said it isn't contagious anymore!" Ron hollered after Hermione's retreating figure.

"Shut up you stupid Weasel."

"Hey! Malfoy insulted me! Oi guys!"

But no one was paying attention to Ron.

The twins looked at each other.

"Well I don't know about you George, but that was pretty strange to me."

Hermione did not even try going to bed that night. She left the dinner table right after she was done, and headed for the balcony. Everyone at the table had put it down to "Hermione's odd studying habits". But she was sure that Draco knew exactly where she was. And sure enough, he arrived.

"Hey."

"Hey." She was beginning to enjoy these meetings on the balcony every night, even though it was with The Draco Malfoy, who had tormented her in the past.

"Come to think of it, why do you still call me Malfoy?"

Hermione determinedly stared at the street below, remaining silent.

"Oh come on. I call you Hermione. That took a lot out of me at first, you know."

"I'm sure it did."

"Why."

She sighed, and changed the topic. She did enjoy their nightly conversations, but right now she didn't want to deal with this particular topic.

"Goodnight Malfoy, I think I'll turn in early tonight."

"The charms are still up." He gently reminded, pulling her back by the wrist.

"I don't care." She replied, trying to sound indifferent when in actual fact she had just begun to realize the possible scenarios of herself in bed with the heat.

"Of course. You'll probably be back here in an hour, sweating as if you'd run a marathon."

"I won't. Goodnight, Malfoy."

"I must know why you call me Malfoy."

Silence. Then Hermione began to get fed up with his persistence.

"Gee, Malfoy. I've always called you that. If I don't call you Malfoy what else should I call you? Drakey-Poo?"

Draco cringed, his head filled with fleeting images of a certain pug-faced girl.

"No need to go that far … Call me Draco."

Hermione replied all to quickly.

"No thanks. I'll pass."

There was a tense silence. Then,

"Gods, what on earth? You're so strange, Hermione Granger! It's just a name! My name! I thought you were always one for unity, friendship and love! Ooh! I am Hermione Granger! I want equal rights for all creatures! Peace to the world and goodwill to mankind!" mocked Draco, his patience finally wearing thin.

"Malfoy! You're pissing me off."

"You're pissing me off too! Tell me why!"

To Hermione, Draco had started to sound like a petulant child whining for his toy. She gritted her teeth and bit back.

"Why do you need to know, Malfoy?"

"Well, it's not a really big deal is it?"

"So," Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "If it's not a big deal, why do you want to know?"

"It's about ME! Of course I'd want to know! I bet that it's some trivial haughty Gryffindor reason." After this statement, to Draco's alarm, he caught sight of overly-bright hazel eyes.

"Oh Merlin! Hermione, are you going to cry? It's not a big deal." Draco's anger was quickly replaced with apprehension.

"Well, it is to me." Her voice was almost a whisper.

"Please, Hermione. I want to understand."

Hermione regarded Draco with wary eyes, and sighed defeatedly.

"Ok fine. You win." She licked her dry lips nervously before continuing. "You see, it's all about … change."

"Change? I don't get it. Everything's changed."

"Exactly, Malfoy. Everything's changed. The wizarding world has changed, nothing is safe anymore. We've left Hogwarts, so I have nothing to cling to. I'm stuck here in this place, and I know nothing about the outside anymore. I don't recognize anything anymore. It's as if the world has just moved on without me – Especially since the War has begun, even people have changed so much. People I've loved and liked so much changed so drastically it's frightening! Do you understand, Malfoy?"

Draco pursed his lips thoughtfully.

"What about Harry, Ginny and Ron? Aren't you still close to them?"

"Yes, but they've changed too. Now they're all so serious and more focused than usual. Well, except Ron is even more whiny than usual."

"What's it got to do with me?"

"Well, that's the argument we had that day, didn't we? I said that you've haven't changed. You are one person I thought I could count on remaining the same… something that I recognized and – cherished – in a weird way."

Draco almost snorted at the very thought of Hermione Granger, bookworm extraordinaire, cherishing him.

"You cherished ME?"

"Shush. Not in that way. You were just someone I thought I could count on to be evil and remain evil, towards me and towards my friends. We called you Malfoy to distance ourselves from you, and that's why I kept at it. It reminded me of Hogwarts. Of the past."

Smacking his head with his palm, Draco chided.

"Gods, Hermione. You're such a sentimentalist."

"I can't help it." She sniffed, and to Draco's surprise – and horror – she burst into tears.

"Malfoy, even the war has taken its toll on Harry. He's just… changed somehow. He's lost that sparkle in his eyes!" she stood there with her hands flying to cover her face as she sobbed her heart out.

Draco did not know what to do with a crying girl, especially one crying over him (in a way!) at that. So he did what naturally came first to his mind. He hugged her, enveloping her small frame in his tall one. To his astonishment, she seemed to relax into his arms, and buried her face in his chest.

When her sobbing finally died down, Hermione reluctantly pulled herself away from him, lifting her tear stained face to meet his. It was then, with her wet eyes and rosy cheeks, that he noticed how beautiful she really was.

"Thank you, Draco." Hermione gave him a small smile before turning back to the banister. They stood, as they had done the nights before, and watched the street below, acting as if nothing had happened. But they both knew that that was a fallacy.

At breakfast, Hermione decided that there was a need to explain her abrupt departure the previous day. To Harry, Ginny, Fred and George's amazement (and later to Ron's chagrin when her found out), Hermione declared that she was now officially "on a first-name basis with Draco Malfoy" and she that realized that "error of my own ways, addressing him by his surname even though we are friends". Once again, everyone put that down to "Hermione's odd habits".

Only Draco smiled in amusement, but no one noticed.

The next night found Hermione waiting for Draco on the balcony. They watched the street below for awhile before Hermione broke the silence.

"Tell me, why do you hate Ron so much?"

"The same reason why you call me Malfoy."

"I don't call you Malfoy anymore."

"I'm a Malfoy. We don't conform to societal norms." Draco drew himself up to his full height and announced pompously.

Hermione rolled her eyes, knowing he was teasing her.

"Tell me."

"Some day."

"Please Draco."

"It's complicated."

"You can tell me."

"No. Not you. Anyone but you." But Draco realized that that was the worst thing that he could say when he saw Hermione's face screw up momentarily before staring at him with an unreadable look in her eye.

"Merlin, Hermione! I didn't mean it that way." Suddenly Draco felt flustered, not wanting to make her cry again. "Just…not now, okay?"

Hermione nodded, but she did not turn to look at him.

"I think I'll turn in now. Goodnight Draco."

"Goodnight Hermione."

Finally, Ron was declared fit enough to be released from solitary confinement and was finally allowed to move about. Everyone was pleased, especially Ron, at his newfound liberty. Of course, because of Ron's freedom, Draco was immensely irritable and hostile. He growled at Ron as they passed in the corridor and glowered at him all throughout lunch.

When Ron bent down to hug Hermione before dinner, Draco even snarled at him for some odd reason.

Ron, as ready as every, retaliated by balling up his fists. "Oi! What's your problem, Malfoy?"

"It's okay, Ron. Relax." Hermione steered Ron to a chair and rubbed his shoulders. "You've just recovered so don't get so worked up. It's bad for you!"

Hermione kneaded her fingers to loosen up the tense muscles on Ron's back and he sighed in relief.

"You go, Mione. A bit to the left…"

Draco just scowled and shot Ron a poisonous glare before sauntering up to his room.

Before everyone turned in that night, Molly removed the heating charms since Ron had recovered and had stopped sneezing. The air in Grimmauld Place was warm, but much cooler than the previous nights.

There was no need for the balcony now.

Hermione decided to go anyway. Although she did not expect to Draco to be there, she still felt a twinge of disappointment when she arrived to an empty balcony.

Slowly, she made her way to her usual spot at the railings. And as usual, she leaned against it. But this time, instead of watching the street below, she looked up at the night sky, appreciating the pale moon that hung amidst the stars.

Hermione began to sort out her thoughts, most of which centered on a certain blonde-haired man. Indeed, he had changed. Gone was the arrogant and selfish young boy that she had loathed back at Hogwarts. The boy had matured into a thoughtful and almost bearable young man. Just then, to her delight, she felt someone slip next to her on the balcony.

"It's not that hot anymore, Hermione."

"Same to you."

"Then why are you here?"

"Why are you here?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"It's not that hot anymore, Draco." She repeated his phrase teasingly.

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you." That made her freeze, and made unwelcome butterflies flutter around in her stomach.

"You did?" Though Hermione still felt hurt from the previous night's conversation, she was surprised to find herself overflowing with joy at the thought of another talk with Draco.

"Yeah sure. I'm a human. I need civil conversation."

"Oh." She nodded dumbly, but quickly regained her wit, "It's not as if your previous Slytherin lackeys provided you with any intelligent banter." Earlier on, he might have taken this as an insult. But now Hermione and Draco were on good terms, and they both laughed together at her joke.

"It's not as if I can sit down with Harry or Ginny and talk about Potions or Arithmancy anyway." It was true. Hermione and Draco had enjoyed numerous intellectual discussions, none of which any of the Weasleys and Harry, or even Molly for that matter, could have kept up with.

"Yeah, and you could so sit down with Ron and have a little chat about Ancient Runes." They both cracked up even more at this.

"It'd probably end when I break his nose."

"You? Break Ron's nose?"

"Of course. I can take him down any day." Draco puffed up his chest most characteristically.

"It's good Harry and I are around, if not you'd been knocked out by Ron long ago."

Draco's mood suddenly took an unexpected stormy turn.

"Look, Hermione, you know how much I hate the Weasel. Just shut up."

"See what I mean Draco! You're always picking on him!"

Draco clenched and unclenched his jaw slowly. Then suddenly, realization dawned on Hermione and she began to giggle.

"What?" Draco snapped irritably.

"Oh – Merlin you're –" Hermione didn't get much further before dissolving into more giggles.

"What?! I'm not!!" Draco turned to face her, a panicky expression on his face, thinking that she was about to question his sexuality.

"You're – MMPHLAAGOSS – of Ron!"

"WHAT?!"

"You're –" More snorts.

"TELL ME HERMIONE! OR I'LL –"

"Jealous!" She finally managed before doubling over and sniggering in a most unladylike manner.

To his relief, it was not the "G-word", but it was no better.

"I AM NOT JEALOUS OF RON!"

"Yes you are! Your cheeks are red!"

"Well that's because I've always had a lovely rosy complexion!"

"No! I'm the one with the rosy complexion! But just admit it, Draco Malfoy!"

"Admit what? That you have a lovely rosy complexion? Okay, I admit it."

"Not that you twit. That you're jealous of Ron!"

"Whatever gave you that ridiculous notion!"

"That's why you hate him so much!"

Draco turned to the face the wall, his back to Hermione, refusing to look at her. Timidly, she moved next to him, putting one small hand on his shoulder.

"I'm right, aren't I?" She asked, more quietly this time.

He took in a deep breath and balled his fist. "It's not easy for me to say this alright. The only reason I'm admitting it to you is because I owe you one."

"Oh." Hermione fell silent.

"Look, Weasley has everything I don't."

"You have everything Ron doesn't. You have fortune and influence."

"Weasley has a loving family. And siblings. And friends."

"Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy were always generous with their affections."

"Just because I am a Malfoy. Weasley … has Harry and you. You two love him even though he is such a useless blithering idiot."

"He's not."

"You see. He has nothing to offer you, yet you still stand up for him."

"Because he's my friend."

"Hermione, tell me, am I your friend?"

"Well…we shook hands that time."

Draco stared down at Hermione expectantly. She almost flinched.

"I'm sorry Draco, but, I don't know."

"Well that explains why I have a reason to hate Weasley, don't I?"

"Draco. You value my friendship?"

"You didn't know, but I've always admired you, Hermione." Hermione was shell-shocked. It wasn't everyday that Draco Malfoy admitted to his former enemy that he had actually admired her. Oblivious to her surprise, Draco continued.

"Let's just say Weasley would have attempted to hex me if I had so much as to approach you."

The picture of Ron hexing Draco was hilarious, but Hermione was in no laughing mood.

"…I don't know what to say… I'm sorry, Draco."

But being the man he was, Draco just shrugged it off, endeavoring to sound flippant.

"For what? It's just how some things are. Some people just can't have everything."

Hermione rolled her eyes, attempting to lighten the mood.

"Never knew you were one to be so philosophical."

"But all's fair after all."

"What are you talking about?"

Draco's mouth curved into a smile.

"Weasley may have all that fuzzy wuzzy lovey dovey stuff, but he doesn't have my dashing good looks and undeniable charm."

"Draco!"

Even though they did not make an "appointment" throughout the day, there seemed to be an unspoken agreement that they would meet again that night. This time, Hermione bumped into Draco just as she was exiting her bedroom that night.

They walked side by side to the balcony in silence. Hermione didn't know what to say to him, but walking next to him just felt … right.

Draco opened the door of the balcony when they reached their destination.

"Ladies first." He gestured towards Hermione.

"Why thank you, kind sir." She waltzed into the balcony, playing along.

"Tell me, fair maiden – " Hermione blushed at this. "What are we?"

"Well, sir, we are human beings. Homo sapiens!"

"No, no, lady. What are you – and I?" He gestured to the space between them, insinuating an invisible connection of sorts.

"Oh! We are magicfolk!"

"Seriously, Hermione. You know what I mean."

Hermione shifted around uneasily. It was a simple question, but she felt inexplicably uncomfortable.

"We are … kindred spirits."

This earned a roar of laughter from Draco.

"Gods, Hermione. Who uses that term anymore?"

She flushed, then shrugged her slim shoulders.

"Why is it so hard to admit what we have is special?"

Hermione whirled around to face him.

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"Tell me. Do you consider me your friend? Truthfully." Draco placed both his hands on Hermione's shoulders. She couldn't help but be distracted but the warmth they emanated.

"… Yes, Draco."

"And that's all?"

"Friends?" Hermione cocked her head at him, smiling helplessly.

Draco drew a deep breath.

"Hermione, look. You mean a lot to me. You mean a lot more to me than just as a friend."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but felt her voice hitch in her throat.

"Hermione?" But Hermione had begun to pace around the balcony, muttering incoherently.

"How can The Draco Sodding Malfoy like me? I must be going mad! I am stupid muggleborn and he's like this pureblooded prince and he's rich and goodlooking! How can I like him! Oh Merlin! How could I be so stupid? This is crazy! I'm not making sense. Argh! He used to call me Mudblood! He used to call me Mudblood! And he used to make fun of my hair! But he's a really nice guy and God! I think I've started to fall – "

Draco grabbed hold of her wrist, stopping her in midstride. Then he lowered his face to hers and pressed his warms lips against her cold ones.

"Mmph!"

But Hermione was shushed as Draco's tongue began to brush against her lips, begging for entrance. She slowly consented, opening her mouth as her hands involuntarily came up to wrap around his neck. She shuddered when he laid one of his hands on her bum, and the other one on her waist. His hands slowly moved underneath her thin pajama cotton, shocking her with their incredible heat.

"Oh Draco!" Hermione moaned as one of his hands found her bare breast and began to knead it.

To his utmost surprise, Hermione began to grind her hips against his hardening erection. Her cool fingers deftly unbuttoned her flimsy blouse and she slipped the fabric off her body.

Draco pushed her away and stared at her.

"Merlin, you're so damn beautiful, I just have to have you right now." Without warning he pushed Hermione against the stone wall of the balcony and hooked his fingers in the waistband of her pants.

"Are you a …?"

Hermione's warm brown eyes met his. She reddened.

"Yes."

To her surprise, he flashed her his trademark Malfoy smirk, his hands running up and down her sides. "I get what Weasley can never have now."

"Oh shut up Malfoy, you talk too much." And she captured his lips with hers as he began to pull down his boxers.

The cool balcony of 12 Grimmauld Palace was empty, save for one particularly warm corner. Against the wall were two lovers pressed against each other, engaging in passionate acts of lovemaking. It was dark, except for a sliver of moonlight that revealed amounts of sweat glistening on bare skin.

It was hot.

So, so hot.

Stifling, suffocating, sticky.

But it was so sweet.

---

Penname OR Livejournal Username: noelanisitara

Are you over the age of 17? Yes.

STORY REQUEST

BRIEFLY describe what you'd like to receive: Not together yet. Jealousy. Happy ending. Preferably not too much fluff.

What rating would you prefer? Author's choice.

Deal Breakers (what don't you want?): Non-con, Dark, PWP

---

A/N: I'm really sorry I think I've added too much fluff! This particular fic is a little sketchy… if you want it spiced up and edited do let me know. SIGH. EXAMS NEXT WEEK.