The following morning, as was usual, Hermione woke before Draco. Deciding to be a little nosy, she crept out of bed and into Draco's en suite bathroom. It was the last bit of his flat she hadn't seen and was unsurprised to find it as bare as the other rooms.
Draco's style wasn't exactly minimalist, but for a man that could afford anything he desired, a person would never know it by simply glancing around his home. There weren't any pieces of art on the wall or lavish knick-knacks and appliances. The most personal items one could find was his collection of books. There was one bookcase in the sitting room lined with everything from Greek literature to Alchemy handbooks. When she had peeked into his second bedroom, the week before, she found boxes upon boxes filled with more tomes. Hermione couldn't help but admit that she was a tiny bit jealous of his personal library.
His en suite was the same. Bare, eggshell colored walls with a basic sink and toilet. A closer look in the shower revealed that Draco was used to a few of the finer amenities. The shampoo and soap weren't a brand you would find browsing the aisles of the local chemist, and when Hermione ran her hand over his towels, the softness could have rivaled that of a newborn kitten. Instead of a normal shower head, there was an overhead, rainfall shower.
Hermione bit her lip as she eyed up the shower. Hot water cascading over her body was a heavenly thought at that moment. She reached out and slowly turned the handle. The water flowed and took only seconds to heat up. Back in New York, she had to let the shower run for at least three minutes for it to gain any sense of warmth. When she stepped in and the flow hit her body, she contemplated the possibility of trading her magic for the water pressure at home to match what she was feeling right then.
As she lathered Draco's shampoo into her hair, Hermione let her mind wander back to the events of the previous evening. She immediately felt guilty for how she treated Ron. The poor sod was only trying to help and make sure she got to the right destination. He had been right- she was being unreasonably bitchy. Giving a sigh of defeat, she made a mental note to add a stop on her travels back to Harry and Ginny's.
Wrapped in the fluffiest towel her body had ever felt, Hermione stood in front of the oversized, oval mirror. She swiped her hand over the layer of condensation that had gathered and inspected the damage Draco had done to her neck. One by one, she placed a Glamour spell on each bite mark and tried not to dwell on the acts that put them there, for fear of jumping back in bed and letting him undo all her spellwork.
It was with great disappointment that she parted ways with her towel and slipped back into her dress. When she reentered the bedroom she found it empty. The sound of cabinets opening and closing were coming from the kitchen, so she made her way there, stopping momentarily to retrieve her purse from the hall floor. In the kitchen, she found Draco just sitting down at the table. Two bowls of cereal and two glasses of orange juice were set between him and an empty chair.
"What's this?" Hermione asked skeptically.
"You said you like breakfast in the morning, so I made breakfast," Draco answered, nodding to the bowls.
"You mean you poured cereal and juice?"
"I could unpour it, if you'd prefer," he retorted with a scowl.
Hermione let out a heavy sigh and ran her hands through her damp curls. "No, I'm sorry. Thank you," she said, sitting down in the empty chair. She poured milk over the cereal and took a sip of juice, under Draco's scrutinous gaze. "What's wrong?"
"Just reflecting on how well you have yourself closed off," Draco commented, taking a bite of his cereal.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You've built up this impressive wall, hiding behind sarcasm and bitterness. You obviously drop it a bit when you're around friends, but it's always there, isn't it? Won't let anyone see the real you."
Hermione dropped her spoon and glared across the table. Of all the conversations she wanted to start the day off with, this one landed dead last on the list. "If that's not the pot calling the cauldron black."
"Mmm, why do you think I've noticed it and your friends haven't? You and I are more alike than either of us probably want to admit, Granger. Letting anyone over the wall let's them see your weaknesses, doesn't it? Makes you vulnerable."
"And what weaknesses do you have behind your wall?"
"You first," Draco replied.
Hermione said nothing. She picked her spoon back up and started eating, tense silence hanging in the air between them. After a couple minutes, Draco broke it and continued on with his amateur psychoanalysis.
"The difference between us, darling, is that people do know what I have behind my wall-"
"Which is?" Hermione interrupted.
Draco let out an irritated sigh. "The past, of course. It's what behind yours, isn't it?" Hermione said nothing, letting her silence confirm his assumptions. "The difference is that I've spent the last few years climbing over mine. You've only built up reinforcements. It's not hard for you to do so in New York. No one there probably knows the real you anyway, so they can't call you out on it. But now, now that you're back around friends and family, it's harder and you're having to employ new strategies to cope and put up a happy front."
Hermione pushed her bowl away and stood up. "You're not telling me anything my therapist hasn't told me a thousand times already. Thank you for breakfast." She turned and started to leave.
"It should mean more coming from me," Draco called after her.
Hermione spun around quickly and shot back, "And why's that? Because I'm fucking you?"
Draco smirked and shook his head. "No, because you're not paying me. I have no reason to bullshit you." He turned his attention back to his cereal bowl.
"Fine, you've figured me out! I'm messed up! How do you suggest I fix it, Doctor Malfoy?" Hermione bit her lip, trying to force back her tears. Her efforts failed though, and she felt the wetness track down her cheeks.
Draco appeared taken aback at her sudden display of emotions and just stared at her for a moment before answering, "I-I don't know Granger. I'm not going to pretend to know the demons that are tormenting you. Figure out what the root of it all is and start there." He stood up and made a move towards her, but she held up her hand and he stopped. "For me, it was my father," he continued. "When I looked back on everything I hated about myself, he was always there in the shadows, almost like a puppet master. As soon as I started distancing myself from him, it helped bring everything else into focus."
Hermione nodded. Her breathing was heavy and fast from her silent sobbing. She knew where she needed to start. She was just too much of a coward to take that step. Draco was right- it was easier in New York to push things to the side and not have to confront what really plagued her. Gods, she hated him being right! She hated herself even more, standing there, letting her tears cement his conclusions. Why was he being so sympathetic about it though? Part of her wanted him to gloat, throw it back in her face that he was right, so that she had an excuse to rage and scream!
As she thought about how to take her next step, she was surprised to find arms awkwardly encircling her. "What are you doing?" she whispered.
"I've been led to believe that this is how the whole comforting thing works. I think it's called a hug?"
Hermione let out a laugh between her sobs. As his arms relaxed around her, she slowly leaned against his chest and rested her head on his shoulder. The screaming rage in her chest slowly started to fade away. When a content sigh involuntarily escaped her lips, her body stiffened. Draco immediately noticed the change and let his arms drop, as she pushed herself away from him.
"I should get going," she said hastily, moving towards the door. "I'll see you next week."
"Right. See ya, Granger."
Hermione nodded and let herself out. In the hallway, she let herself slump against the wall and closed her eyes. While sweet, Draco's act of comfort toed the line of their platonic, sex only relationship. At the moment, she was feeling particularly vulnerable and needed to keep a sense of control. Letting herself get swept up in a moment, and possibly start feeling something for a person that would never reciprocate those feelings, would only lead to disappointment. There were more important things to deal with.
When she apparated, she found herself staring down a very familiar door. She wasn't certain if he still lived here, but she hadn't been told any different so she summoned up her courage and knocked. She heard the scraping of a chair and shuffling, then a lock being unhinged. When the door swung open, Hermione was face to face with her ex-husband.
For a few moments they just stood and stared, taking each other in. Ron's usual Saturday appearance hadn't changed. He still wore the same faded pajama pants, paired with a muscle shirt. She couldn't help but smile a bit when she noticed a dribble of milk down the front.
"Hey," Ron finally said.
"Hey," Hermione replied.
"You missed a spot."
"What?" Hermione asked confusedly.
Ron reached out and pointed to her neck. "You missed a spot," he repeated.
Hermione's hand immediately flew to the back of her neck, trying to hide the incriminating mark.
"Did you need something?" Ron asked, ignoring her childish reaction.
Hermione slowly removed her hand from her neck and nodded her head. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Hermione said, "I wanted to come and say that I'm sorry for how I treated you last night. You didn't deserve it. Thank you for helping me get home."
"Even though you didn't stay there," he muttered.
"Ron, please! This isn't easy for me and I'm really trying to build a bridge here."
"And you think it's easy for me to watch you go off and screw Malfoy at every opportunity?" Ron spat.
"For Christ's sake, Ronald!" Hermione pushed her way past him so that he could close the door and not let all the neighboring tenants endure the impending fight.
"I know we've separated and you're free to see whoever you want, but Malfoy? Really? You can do so much better than that prick!" Ron fumed as he slammed the door.
"Did Harry tell you about this?"
"No, no one told me about it. I don't need to be told, Hermione. I have bloody eyes. I've seen how you've been acting around him since you arrived. And now you show up with with bite marks all over your neck, drenched in his stench, asking for forgiveness. How fucking stupid do you think I am?!"
Hermione bristled and said, "I never said anything about asking for forgiveness. I'm here because we need to talk, and not about Draco Malfoy."
"Okay, let's talk then."
"Not now. I can't handle it at this moment, and I especially can't do it here." Hermione glanced around her old flat, flashing back to easier times and happier moments. Her eyes landed on a dent in the wall and the flashbacks turned dark.
She had been the one to make that dent, a few months before they had called it quits. Ron had come home and, without any warning, laid into her about having lunch with a fellow co-worker. He was adamant that that was definitive proof that she was running around behind his back. Hermione of course defended herself and said he was being paranoid, reading too much into a non-issue. The fight ended with Ron storming out of the flat and Hermione hurling her hardback edition of War and Peace at the wall.
Pulling herself back to the present, Hermione said, "Wednesday. Can you come over on Wednesday so we can talk? I'll send Harry and Ginny out for a date night and make us dinner."
"Yeah, all right. Wednesday works," Ron agreed. "The shop closes at five. Five-thirty okay for you?"
"Sure. What shop though? What happened to the Ministry?" Hermione inquired.
"The Wizarding Wheezes shop. I've been there for the last year, helping George run the business," he answered. "Harry never told you?"
"No, guess it never came up." Hermione nodded and started for the door. "Right then, Wednesday night. Thank you, Ron." She looked up and stared at the blue eyes that once melted her heart. "And, again, thank you for helping me last night. I really do appreciate it, even if my bitchy attitude last night didn't quite show it."
Ron smiled at her admission. "Bye, Hermione."
Hermione waved.
"Bye, Ron."
o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
What was this bloody woman doing to him? Draco Malfoy does not hug. Even his own mother knows not to expect them. So what made Hermione Granger the exception to yet another one of his rules?
Crying witches! It was his downfall. He couldn't handle the tears; found them almost intimidating. He always felt guilty when he was in the presence of a crying woman. And this time he was at fault. He had pushed her to the edge, getting some sort of sick pleasure from picking apart her insecurities...
He never meant to sincerely hurt Hermione. He'd only been trying to engage her in the usual back and forth, scathing banter he had gotten used to having with her. But once he started seeing beneath her layers of defense, he couldn't stop himself from pulling back more. He saw so much of himself reflected in her armor and part of him really wanted to know what she was hiding behind it.
Fucking hell….this is exactly why Draco limited his intimate affairs with women to one night of shagging. He didn't want the emotional weight that came along with a proper relationship. And, as he had so bluntly been told before, he couldn't handle it. It was true though. He had a hard enough time sorting out his own head. Thinking he could emotionally invest in any sort of personal relationship only led to disastrous ends.
Draco twirled his quill between his fingers, as those thoughts buzzed around his mind early Monday morning. He should have been in the lab, but he was in no state to work with chemicals and potions, so he shut himself up in his office, pretending to look over case reports for Harry. Truth was, he had finished those reports Friday afternoon and had just spent the last hour or so at his desk, sulking.
With a defeated groan, Draco heaved himself from the chair, grabbed the files, and started making his way to the Magical Law Enforcement department. Three quick raps on Harry's office door and Draco was invited in.
"Finished going over those reports for you," Draco said, handing the files over to Harry.
Harry took them and glanced over the names. "Thanks. Anything stand out?"
"Nah. They're mainly low level, Mundungus style grifters. Their business practices tend to ride of the line of legality, but there's nothing dark associated with them."
Harry nodded and placed the files on a shelf behind him. "I'll make sure to pass them along to the Magical Trade and Commerce division. They can keep their eye on them. Few less arseholes I have to worry about." He turned back to Draco and continued, "I'll be out, undercover, all of tomorrow morning. Want to join us?"
"What do you think Potter?"
Harry laughed. "Just thought I'd ask."
"I've spent all of this morning avoiding my lab duties. I'll be spending tomorrow playing catch-up," Draco explained.
"You? Avoiding work? Are you all right? Should I call in a healer?" Harry asked, furrowing his brow.
Draco gave him an exasperated look. "Let me rephrase it. I'm not so much avoiding work as I am recognizing that I'm not in the right state of mind, thus keeping clear of the lab today for the safety of myself and others."
"Still, very un-Malfoy like. Everything okay?"
"I'm fine Potter. Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about," Draco reassured. "Less than a week now before the big day. Are you ready for it?"
"You mean am I ready to be done with the endless discussions on flowers, colors, music, themes, table settings, and every other mundane thing that a wedding entails? No, please, give me another year of it all," Harry said dryly.
Draco laughed. "So glad I dodged that curse."
Harry looked at him skeptically. "Are you?"
"Definitely." Draco stared back at Harry's unwavering skepticism and sighed. "I'm not saying there's no merit to marriage. I'm just saying it's not for me. You and Ginny are the together forever types. I'm more the eternal bachelor."
"You've given up too easily, Malfoy."
"No. I've simply accepted my lot in life early, and figured out how to make the best of it. Women only bring chaos into my life." Draco hesitated for a moment, before deciding to go out on a limb and asked, "Speaking of chaos, how has Granger been?"
Harry grinned and dropped his quill. "Why do you ask?"
"For Salazar's sake, Potter. Wipe that smug smile from your face. I only ask because when she left my flat the other morning, she wasn't exactly in a great state of mind and I was…." Draco trailed off, not knowing how to finish his sentence.
"Worried?" Harry supplied.
"No, worry implies there are emotions involved. I was just wondering if she made it back to your place okay."
"That's called worry, Draco. Join us on the un-robotic side of humanity. I promise, it won't kill you."
"You keep using 'robot' like it's an insult, but I have no clue what that is. Step your game up, Potter."
Harry rolled his eyes and muttered, "Of all the people that could have used a Muggle Studies class."
"Now you just sound like Granger."
Harry chuckled and shook his head. "To assuage your previous curiosity, Hermione has been just fine. She came home Saturday a bit upset with Ron, but that's nothing unusual."
"I'd keep an eye on her."
Harry's amused expression dropped away, replaced with one of concern. "Why do you say that?"
"Are you serious?" Draco looked at his friend incredulously. How was it that, after three weeks, he could see that Hermione Granger was on a slow, downward spiral, yet her best friends were oblivious? Damn, she really has her cover act nailed, Draco thought.
"She's not herself, Harry. She's been living in your house. How have you not seen that?"
"What's going on? And how do you know all of this?"
"I guess I've gotten used to the look of pain and suffering being reflected back at me." Draco sighed and ran his hand roughly through his hair. "She sort of opened up to me a bit the other morning. She didn't share any specifics," Draco added quickly, before Harry could interrupt, "but she mentioned seeing a therapist, back in New York, and had a minor breakdown. I didn't push for details and she threw her defenses back up pretty quick."
Harry pursed his lips and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. "We knew about her seeing a therapist, but just assumed it was due to the divorce and moving to a new country." He fell silent for a contemplative minute. "Why do you care, though?" he finally asked.
"For fuck's sake," Draco groaned. "Fine, I admit it! I'm not a completely heartless bastard. While I may not go out of my way to help people, I don't enjoy seeing anyone in pain. I know what it feels like to be trapped within yourself and it's a shitty way to exist."
Harry nodded and said, "I guess I've been so wrapped up in work and wedding stuff, I haven't really noticed much else. I figured it'd be tough for her, coming back for the first time since everything. I just chalked up the awkwardness to that. She asked Ginny and I if we could go out for the evening, on Wednesday, so she could have some time to talk to Ron. Maybe once she talks to him, she'll let us in on what's going on."
So, Weasley was at the root of it all? Draco wasn't surprised by this, but he was a bit taken aback by how much it annoyed him. Of course, the redhead annoyed him by simply breathing….
"Is that the only reason for your concern?" Harry asked, breaking into Draco's thoughts. "Nothing else behind it?"
"Are you trying to insinuate there's more to me and Granger than just shagging?" The corners of Harry's eyes crinkled in amusement and Draco laughed. "The Chudley Cannons have a better chance at being top of the table."
"Stranger things have happened."
"I'll redirect you to my earlier comment about eternal bachelorhood."
"Draco, are you really going to let her dictate the rest of your life?" Harry sighed in exasperation.
"Watch it now." Draco pointed his finger at Harry and gave him a stern look, saying, "You're starting to sound like Narcissa," before cracking back into a smile.
"I know you hate to hear it, but your mother is right. It was one relationship that-"
"That made me realize how shit I truly am at relationships," Draco finished. "I've moved on. I suggest everyone else does the same."
"Whatever you say, mate," Harry finally conceded. "Who knows? Maybe Hermione and Ron will be able to work things out and get back together, and we'll all live happily ever after."
"As you said, stranger things have happened," Draco replied, turning to leave. As he left, Draco quickly added, "I'm working through lunch today, so I'll see you when I see you."
"So, tomorrow then?"
"When I see you, Potter," Draco repeated, exiting the Auror's office and retreating to the solace of his own.
A/N- Just wanted to add a quick thanks for everyone that has been reading/reviewing/favoriting my stories. I apologize that I don't really have a set schedule of when I can update. We've hit the four week countdown to when this new baby is due, and anyone that knows babies knows that that means anytime now! So I'm going to keep trying to write and update, but it might get even more sporadic over the next few month or so, and I just wanted to give a preemptive apology.