AN: Hello, everyone! This chapter is a little shorter than usual because of where I had to cut it off, but hopefully the contents of it will make up for it. Have a bit of Dramione tension, darlings, and try to forget about our crazy world for a bit. Sending love and good vibes to you all, and I'll see you Thursday!

-..-

Friday morning dawned with dreary skies and ominous clouds. The threat of rain hung heavily in the sky and cast the world in gloomy shades of gray.

Draco thought the impending storm was fitting.

He stood across the street from the building that housed Hermione's flat, hands stuffed deep in his pant pockets and a frown marring his features. He tried to look inconspicuous, but the street was empty due to the shoddy weather, and he was painfully aware of the neighbors peeking at the strange, brooding man through their curtains. He needed to knock on Hermione's door before someone called the muggle aurors.

It had been quite lucky that he had remembered enough details of her street from the night she had brought them here. Another excellent reason to have been sober after the party at the Three Broomsticks. He told himself it wasn't creepy, and that being aware of your surroundings was a skill anyone should possess.

He still needed to knock.

Heaving a sigh and shoving his hands even further into his pockets, Draco trudged across the street and up the small steps to Hermione's front door. He knocked before he could talk himself out of it, and immediately began tapping his foot impatiently. The door opened far enough for him to glimpse a very confused Hermione.

"Draco?" She rubbed the back of her hand over one of her eyes, and he was suddenly aware of how early in the morning it was.

"I'm sorry if I woke you," he said quickly. "I can come back later."

She waved a hand at him and said, "No, no, it's alright. Would you like to come in?"

He nodded appreciatively, more than happy to get out of the rain that was beginning to fall, and stepped passed her into the room. He glanced around the space, surprised by how small the flat was. It was stuffed to the brim with books, which he had expected, and it made the room they were in feel even smaller than it was. The warm colors and personal touches made the place feel homey and somewhat less cramped, but Draco still felt as though he was intruding and lingered anxiously by the front door.

"How did you know which door was mine?"

Draco glanced at her and immediately lost his train of thought.

She was dressed in what he assumed were her sleep clothes. She worse gray sweats that looked to be at least two sizes too big and puddled around her bare feet. Her shirt was so faded he could hardly make out any letters that remained. The bottom of the shirt had been cut off rather carelessly, and the frayed edges revealed a small amount of skin. It captivated his attention.

"Draco?"

His gaze snapped back to hers, and he found laughter dancing in her brown eyes. He smiled sheepishly at her and rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry, didn't sleep well last night."

Her smile told him she knew exactly why he had been staring, but she said nothing.

"I remembered from the party," he said. He hoped it didn't sound strange to remember a detail like that.

Thankfully she nodded along as though this made perfect sense. She shuffled to the kitchenette and asked, "I was just about to make some tea, would you like some?"

"Yes, please."

Draco took a seat at the kitchen table and watched her quietly work. This wasn't going at all the way he had anticipated. He had expected shouting, perhaps a few things thrown at him, a lecture at the very least. While Hermione Granger may not have had the most notorious temper during their years at school, she had certainly been a force to be reckoned with, and her silence was unnerving him.

He stood from his chair, draped his cloak over the back of it, and moved to stand a few steps away from Hermione. She neither said anything nor looked at him, and he was convinced this was worse than any tongue lashing she could have given him.

"Hermione?"

She hummed to show she had heard him but didn't turn away from the tea kettle on the stove.

"Hermione, I can't apologize enough for standing you up."

"No, you can't," she agreed. Her arms were crossed firmly over her chest when she turned to face him and her gaze was guarded. "In fact, it was probably the most insulting thing you could have done."

Draco took a few tentative steps towards her while he mentally rehearsed all the things he had planned to say. "I went to visit my father in Azkaban." He ran a nervous hand through his hair and released a shaky breath. He hated being so honest, so vulnerable. "I have visited him before, but it's still difficult to see him so… deteriorated. He was rambling madly about rallying the troops and attempting to reinstate the Old Families. It brought back too many memories, and I couldn't…" Draco trailed off, eyes fixed firmly on the floor and shoulders slumped. He whispered, "I'm sorry."

Whatever anger still lingered in Hermione evaporated at the sight of the pain in Draco's eyes. She hadn't realized he had dark circles under his eyes, and his cheek bones looked even more prominent than they normally did. He looked as though he hadn't slept in days.

"You could have owled," she said softly. "I didn't hear from you for days, Draco."

"I know," he said and frowned. His gaze was still firmly on the floor, and she wished he would look at her. "It took me several days to… recover from my visit with Lucius. Writing an apology didn't feel good enough; it doesn't mean nearly as much as coming to you in person. I —" His words were cut off by the sudden feeling of Hermione wrapping her arms around his waist. He stood still for a moment, blinking owlishly at her, before he hesitantly wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

The feeling of her head resting against his chest and her hair beneath his chin caused an unfamiliar sense of comfort to bloom in his chest. He buried his nose in in her curls and closed his eyes, basking in her warmth. She smelled like cinnamon and sugar, and he couldn't get enough of it.

After several quiet moments, Hermione pulled her head back and looked up at him. She was smiling but her eyes flashed with warning. "Next time, send me an owl. Then we won't have to go through all this unnecessary drama."

Draco looked down at her, his heart swelling at the sweet smile on her face, and he couldn't help but smile back. He was suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to kiss her, but the questions he kept at bay of what they were and what this all meant rushed to the front of his mind and kept him frozen in place.

"I want to make it up to you."

Surprise sparked in Hermione's eyes, and her smile widened. "There's no need," she said while shaking her head. "I forgive you. It was just a misunderstanding."

"I know," he said softly. He leaned a little closer to her, their noses nearly touching and a quiet tension bloomed between them. "But I still want to make it up to you." His hands slid slowly from her shoulders down to her hips, and his thumbs rubbed softly at the sliver of skin exposed by her shirt. "Are you sure there's absolutely no way I can make it up to you?"

Hermione's breath hitched in her chest, and a warm flush began to burn her cheeks. She cleared her throat and asked, "Anything?"

"Anything." His eyes glanced down at her lips and he murmured, "Anything at all."

"Woo me."

The tension that had been building between them vanished, and Draco pulled his head back to look at her properly. Confusion caused his brows to furrow and he said, as though he hadn't heard her properly, "Woo me."

"Yes." Seeing him so off balance caused all hesitation to vanish from her, and her smile was full of challenge. "I would like to think we didn't go through all this trouble because of a dinner between friends."

He nodded silently, refusing to allow himself to hope that Hermione was saying what he thought she might be saying.

"Then woo me," she said. "Convince me that dinner with you would be the wisest decision I could make. Convince me that this," she said with a wave of her hand between them, "isn't a fluke."

Draco hummed quietly, as though considering her proposal, and pulled her closer to him by her hips. He smirked as her blush returned and asked, "Are you sure you're ready for me to court you? The full force of my attention might be a bit… overwhelming."

The rumble of his voice when he said that last word caused Hermione's heart to falter and her stomach to tighten.

"I can handle it." Her voice sounded far less convincing than she would have liked.

"I bet you can," he said with a secretive smile. He tucked a stray curl behind her ear and brushed the back of his knuckles against her cheek. "My brave little lioness."

Hermione preened quietly under his praise and bit her lower lip to keep from smiling too widely.

Draco gazed intently at her mouth, and his thumb drifted down from her cheek to pull her lower lip free from her teeth. "Hermione," he whispered. His thumb traced her bottom lip back and forth, sending tingles through her mouth.

"Please." She wasn't sure what she was asking for, she just knew whatever she needed in that moment only he could give.

Doubt flashed through his grey eyes, warring with the desire she could see and longed to drown herself in. Desire won out, and he gripped her chin gently in his fingers to turn her face towards his. Her breath caught in her chest, and anticipation sent delicious tingles over every inch of her skin. Her heart beat so loudly in her chest she was certain he could hear it.

His lips finally brushed against hers in the faintest of touches, and her eyes drifted shut.

Draco's hand drifted down from her chin to wrap softly around the back of her neck, and her fingers found their way into his hair.

He backed her up until she was pinned between Draco and the nearest wall, his body pressed tightly against hers. She hummed into his mouth, pulling gently on his hair to try and bring him even closer. He growled quietly in return and sent shivers dancing down her spine.

Breathing heavily, he pulled away from her just far enough to rest his forehead against hers.

She gazed up at him, taking in his closed eyes and flushed features, and smiled. "I can handle it," she whispered coyly, "but can you?"

Draco's eyes snapped open, and the passion burning in his eyes nearly lit her insides on fire. He swallowed thickly and tried desperately to compose himself. He wanted to ravish her, to wreck her so thoroughly that she hardly remembered her own name. Instead, he said, "I should go."

Disappointment welled up inside her and quickly smothered the fire inside her. She tried to think of something to say, but the only thing that came out was a small, "Oh."

He gently combed his fingers through her hair, tugging softly when they encountered a knot. His fingertips traced her collar bone, up her neck and over her jaw. "You have no idea how much I want to stay," he murmured. His eyes were fixed once more on her lips, and her skin tingled in the wake of his touch. "But I really should be going. I have meetings for work, and showing up late would be distinctly unprofessional."

Hermione pulled on the bottom of his shirt, gaze focused on her hands so Draco couldn't see the disappointment she was sure was there in her eyes. "I understand," she said. "Work is important." She felt his hand grasp her chin once more and tilt her face up towards his. Their eyes met, and she flushed at the amused smile he gave her. "What?"

"You're cute when you pout," he said.

She frowned up at him and huffed.

He chuckled and said, "Just like that."

"I may have forgiven you, but that doesn't mean you can make fun of me," Hermione grumbled, still frowning.

"Of course not," he agreed. And when he placed a gentle kiss against her forehead, her heart melted. "You're the most stubborn witch I have ever met."

"You love it." Hermione grinned impishly at him. "You always have."

Draco hummed thoughtfully and tugged on the end of one of her curls. "I think that is one of the things that drew me to you when we were younger. Your endless intelligence, and your ability to outwit everyone you met. Drove me mad." He wrapped the curl around his finger and tugged a bit harder causing her head to tilt slightly. "Unfortunately for you, this is one game of chess that I have every intention of winning, and the odds are weighted in my favor."

She squinted her eyes skeptically at him and asked, "You think you can out-stubborn me, don't you?"

"I don't think it, I know it."

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. "Is that so?"

He smirked devilishly at her. "I may have come in second place in our classes, but romance is hardly something you can study."

"Can't I?" She reached out and began fidgeting with one of the buttons of his shirt and said, "You must think very highly of yourself if you think even I can't resist your charms."

"You won't want to," he said confidently. "Once I set my mind to this, you will fall for me so fast you will forget you were supposed to be resisting me."

She leaned up on her toes to brush her lips slowly across his jaw, and when they reached his ear she whispered, "Do your worst."

His gaze was dark and his deep chuckle full of wicked desire as he made his way to the door. "Have a good day, Hermione."

She watched the door close and released a quiet sigh. Her skin was tingling, and her heart still thundered in her chest. She felt as though she had just finished running a marathon. Shoving her fingers roughly into her curls, Hermione tried to force the blush to leave her cheeks.

Jumping at the shrill whistle that cut through the quiet, she dashed to remove her tea kettle from the stove. She went through the motions of pouring her tea, her thoughts far too distracted to focus on anything aside from Draco. Her fingers reached up to brush softly against her lips.

Despite her bravado, Hermione wasn't so certain that she had the strength or the patience for whatever Draco planned to do next.