Chapter 4

Alone.

Hermione heard it, felt it within every inch of her bones, and desperately tried to push it away.

She thought about the light wood oak cabinet with stained-glass windowed doors that her mother kept in her childhood home. She thought about locking the overwhelming sensation of loss away on one of the glass shelves but everytime she did, she could only get close enough to the cabinet to run a finger across the dusty door frame. Then she was tugged away and forced to endure. The beautiful antique cabinet had never been opened by her and she feared it never would be. Legilimency, and her inability to move past the level of beginner in the skill, had always been a source of embarrassment for her.

She recalled a boy with jet black hair attempting to teach her once when they were on the run. One day spent with their heads buried in books under dim candle light. Shadows of tree branches passed overhead and could be seen through the canvas roof of an old, worn tent. The same emptiness inside her now filled her then though where there was a low stirring in her heart in his presence, now it was a 100ft deep well that she couldn't find a way out of.

The stranger coughed into his hand to get her attention, dragging her out of her thoughts, and the fury she held for him bubbled to the surface. Knowing her emotions towards him to be irrational however, Hermione tried as best she could to push them down, swallow them whole. This wasn't his fault.

Of course it is, you idiot. He took him away from you.

Push past him. Find him.

"Who are you?" She questioned him sternly from across the room. The stranger took a wary look back into the packed club before moving into the room with her and closing the door.

Run.

The voices rang in her ears and shot a wave of unnecessary panic through her lungs.

"Uhh... I'm Simon... Blake's friend. I'm in the band"

Don't trust him.

He must have recognised the confusion and anger on her face as he raised his hands slowly, his palms facing towards her as if she were an uncaged lion about to attack. She sighed, embarrassed at how she must look and took two steps towards him, pushing down her anxiety. She needed to talk to the man who'd once more left her alone and this stranger, nor the whispers in her mind would stop that from happening. Traitorous thoughts filled her head and told her he'd disappeared from her life forever this time. She tried to block them out to find some words to say that would allow her to leave the room as quickly as possible.

"Blake?"

"Yeah" he chuckled. "That bloke that just had his hands on you? Don't tell me he used another fake name? He's a devil that one"

Fake name, she tasted the words on her tongue without uttering them and remembered what Draco had accused her of earlier that evening, and reasoned that Blake was his new name. It didn't suit him.

"Oh! Uhh I suppose I know him by a different name" she managed to say.

He sent her a smirk and a nod that said 'thought so' and she realised she didn't like the thought of him with other women. She could feel the bile slowly rising in her throat.

He wants them, not you. Who'd ever want you, you're a mess.

"If you don't mind, I should go and find Dra... Blake" she corrected herself quickly.

"He'll probably be in the bathroom shouting the odds. I would give him some time if I were you. Besides, you don't look too good. Probably best to talk to him another day, get some rest you know?"

He's keeping him away from you. He's letting him run.

Rest was the last thing on her mind. She had gotten some of the answers she'd craved for so long since she first saw him in that dreary Ministry atrium. But now she had new questions and her perseverant soul would never allow her to ignore them.

"No I need to see him now"

"OK, I'm starting to see what he was talking about," he said quietly under his breath.

He's judging you, the sirens called and caused her to flare her senses, rouge her cheeks, ball her fists.

"Excuse me?"

She took another step towards him quickly and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Sorry!" He held his hands up in surrender again but didn't drop his eye contact. Not for one second. "I'll find him for you OK? It'll have to be quick though, we're playing again in 10"

"T-thank you. It will. Thanks" she faltered.

Maybe she could like this man if he wasn't in her way. She guessed his age at around his late-20s as he still looked youthful but had a quiet sensibility about him. He had long mousy brown hair that curled nicely around the base of his neck and a thick but groomed beard. His voice was quite husky as though it were strained and she supposed this man was the vocalist of the band rather than one of the guitarists. He wore a loose-fitting white shirt that looked damp with spots of sweat at the collar from performing and tight ripped blue jeans. He sported tattoos up his arms just like his elusive friend but they were colourful and less dense on his skin.

Don't even think about it Hermione, he doesn't want you either.

No, that's not what I-, she started in an attempt to argue back with the voice disturbing her line of thought.

You're alone. When are you going to realise that?

Simon nodded over to her, giving her a polite smile before turning out of the room, storming in the direction of the restroom. She watched him enter through a door, opposite that of the room she stood alone in, marked with a small man signifying it to be the men's bathroom.

She paced for a few minutes in the room where she'd learned to feel again - which now felt empty without his presence within it - before the bright lights of the club beckoned her out. She flung her hands through her riotous hair in an attempt to calm it and, with a fake confidence, walked out onto the dance floor where she scanned every face for him.

He was nowhere in sight so Hermione presumed that Simon was right about Draco's whereabouts.

A few more minutes passed and after she'd sunk into the music, swaying and jumping to the beat that consumed her and soothed her, she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. Simon stood behind her with a wide grin slapped across his handsome face, his hand stretched out behind him gripping the collar of a very angry looking Draco. A laugh almost escaped her at how comical it looked. Like he'd been reprimanded and forced to stand there before her. A smile couldn't bring itself to her lips but they did twitch upwards slightly - a move she hoped neither of them would notice but judging by the way Draco's eyes pinched together, she knew he had. It only made her pulse double in speed.

Simon reached forward to talk in her ear, ensuring she could hear him over the singing and heavy noise of the club.

"Hermione. We've got three songs left for the evening. Just three. Then Blake and I will walk you home, yeah?"

Draco, Blake, just stared at her and she couldn't work out how he could revert back to this way so quickly. So gentle and caring while he was kissing her. Now distant and cold once more. His face scrunched up like he'd rather do anything else than walk her home. Or be anywhere near her for that matter.

She agreed, hoping she'd get the chance to speak to him alone, and after an over-familiar excited hug from Simon, they left to finish their set for the evening. Draco had stormed off as soon as Simon's grip had left his shirt. With her alcohol-driven haze clouding her judgement, Hermione shrugged it off and tried to convince herself that her thudding heartbeat was a result of the sound of the drums she'd grown to love refilling her ears.

Whilst she listened to the dry, gravelly voice of Simon booming through the club, she grabbed two shots of whisky from the bar and threw them down her throat. The lips of the strangers that shared the dance floor with her were no longer of any passing interest. The compulsion to find the lips, any lips, that could bring her butterflies back to life was resolved and complete, as far as she was concerned. She knew she wasn't lost nor broken - her weary body still had a spark within it and now she'd confirmed the catalyst. Him. Instead her goal had changed: get answers and hopefully feel his tender lips upon hers again.

Once their set had finished and Simon had begun thanking the crowd, she realised she was being dragged off the dance floor by a pale hand tugging at her upper arm. Images of his naked chest filled her mind and she could almost feel his staggered breath whisper across her neck. A shiver travelled from the base of her neck down her spine then grew outwards to her fingers and toes. She held a pleasurable sigh.

You know you want more, a voice in her head whispered to her.

Her dangerously tempting thoughts were broken by the sudden slamming of her body against the cold brick of the London club. The chill of the early morning air pricked her bare arms into small peaks and Hermione enjoyed the way the cold spread over her golden skin. The blond glared at her for a moment, causing her to raise her eyebrow questioningly, before he finally spoke.

"Don't look for me again, Granger, and don't get the wrong idea. I don't owe you anything" he stated firmly, a snarl forming on his perfect ashen face, and he didn't give her the chance to reply when he started to walk quickly down the street away from her.

Hermione stuttered incoherently as she began to chase after him but before she could, Simon's warm hand grasped hers tightly, pulling her back.

"I wouldn't. He's a nightmare when he's like this"

She pulled her hand out of his instinctively, surprised at just how many times this man was going to pretend to be close to her this evening. Hesitating for a second however, she realised she didn't hate it. It was just unfamiliar. It reminded her of the way her old girl friends would take her hand when they noticed her face crumbled together with stress or all of the times she was infuriated with her lack of progress in her relationship with one particular red-headed boy. It was nice. Like she had a friend.

That'd make one, you patheti-

"I can handle him," she replied politely, awkwardly rubbing the back of the hand he had taken in his own. She met his eyes and saw him give her a reassuring smile.

"I'm sure you can but I'd rather not have to pack my bags and relocate again if you don't mind. Last time he came home after seeing you he went into a blind rage and upturned the entire flat. Cost me my favourite snow globe and did the bastard replace it? Did he fuck"

"I... I'm sorry for that. I... he's..." she half-laughed before questioning just how long it had been since someone had ever elicited the sound from her.

"You don't have to explain, lovely. He's hard work. I just wanted to say that I did have to convince him to do this so he might be a bit grumpy. Thought he'd be a bit more gentlemanly to a woman he'd just snogged but..."

"About that... we've not... we've never done that before. I believe I may have scared him a little"

"Well now, that's an understatement if I've ever heard one," he laughed. "He'll be OK, he's just a bit... jumpy"

She couldn't help but smile back at this man, he seemed to have a knack for making people feel better. Knew how to calm them. She wondered if she might be able to get answers from him if Draco was so unwilling to satisfy her curiosity. Simon had stuck to his promise of finding him for her after all, though he owed her nothing. Could a person just be kind for the sake of it? Just because he was good? She suddenly didn't feel worthy of his help but felt the stirrings of a care for him develop within her crumbling heart.

"How is it you know my name, Simon?"

"Ha!" He cleared his throat before continuing, "Sorry it's just... Blake's mentioned you before"

Her eyes widened in shock. The look in Simon's brown irises told her there was more that he wasn't telling her and that made her anxious. Her breathing picked up, her hands became clammy and she hoped Simon hadn't noticed. If there was one thing that Hermione would take to her grave, it'd be her inability to ignore something that intrigued her. Something she didn't know about. Promising to question the singer more later on, she accepted the outstretched arm he had offered to her and began to walk towards the end of the road, away from the distractingly bright lights of the club.

"Come on, let's get you home. You look frozen... Oi Blake!"

Draco turned sharply at the end of the road after hearing his friend's call. His face was red, his fists were clenched and his eyes dropped to see Hermione link her arm into the crook of Simon's. His sudden outburst at having seen the two together made Hermione choke on her own saliva as she watched him kick a lamppost before pacing back and forth at the end of the street, waiting for them to reach him.

"Crikey. We'd best tread carefully, Hermione. I'd better hide my snow globe collection when I get home I think. It's bound to be his first target" he chuckled, pulling her along. "So where do you live? That's probably the first thing I should have asked."

He tutted to himself, knocking his head back once, and pulled a face at her that said 'silly me'.

"Oh.. It's just..."

"Fucking hell. Can we get this over with?" Draco called after the pair of them as they got closer to the rage-filled blond.

Hermione had just begun to get comfortable in Simon's company and though she enjoyed Draco's anger, he was starting to piss her off now. She shot him a scowl and quickened her pace, pulling Simon along. She still needed to talk to him and would be damned if she let him disappear from her life after this night but she had hope that, now she'd been introduced to Simon, it would be easier to keep him around.

He may not want to be in her life but as long as she was in Simon's, Draco would be in hers. And that was enough for now.

"Dra... Blake. Will you just fuck off if you don't want to walk with us? I was having a conversation."

"Mmm and we all know how conversations with you go." He raised a silver eyebrow at her and stared directly at her face.

"What is that supposed to mean?" She dropped Simon's arm and folded hers defensively.

"Give it a rest, Granger. Are you trying it with him now as well? Honestly Si, I'd stay away from her." Draco flicked his eyes briefly over to his bandmate before looking upon her again. "She's bad blood."

How after all this time can he still care about my blood status? Has he learned nothing from the war? She questioned herself and mentally added the questions to the list that urgently needed answers. Her blood began to boil and she felt it heating her once chilled skin.

Hermione stormed the last few paces up to Draco until the end of her shoes touched his and she pointed her finger right into his chest.

"Fuck you Blake" she said sarcastically. "What is your problem?"

"Whoa, guys I think we need to..." came Simon who tried to pry the two of them apart but failed as they both stood as solid as a rock staring into each other, ignoring him. Hermione honestly hadn't heard Simon say a word as she stared into Draco's eyes, curiously begging for him to reveal himself.

He loomed over her, trying to make her feel small as he stood two heads higher, and patronisingly ran one curved finger down her right cheek. Hermione closed her eyes tight as soon as his cool knuckle met her face and swam in the feeling of her synapses firing rapidly, creating tiny explosions of pleasure lining the path his finger travelled over her cheek.

"I'd say that's fairly obvious sweetheart"

"You're incorrigible"

"If you don't like it, you know where you can go Granger" he warned in a low, deep voice that stirred a feeling behind her navel and took her breath for a few seconds. She grasped at any shred of confidence she had left in that moment and knew she needed to keep up with him if she were to have any chance at getting the information she needed. Where had he been all this time? Why had he used magic to get away from her and almost risked prison? Why had he kissed her?

"But then who'd be here to torment you?"

She relished their searing eye contact and there was a moment of silence as the two of them stood panting against each other. She could swear on anything she still held dear that his eyes dropped to her lips for a second. He blinked once, twice.

Kiss him.

You know you want to. You need it.

For the second time that evening, Simon then interrupted something from happening between the two warring former foes that Hermione knew would have been incredible. Something she needed again.

"You guys are giving me whiplash. Come on, let's get Hermione home so we can all get out of the cold hmm? And on the way, you can tell me about yourself lovely" Simon said as he began to drag her away gently from the snowy-eyed human defibrillator.

"Yes. Let's go. Blake can walk by himself if he so wishes" she sniped, feeling confident, before exhaling sharply into Draco's tensed face.

Hermione stepped back, made an attempt to control her breathing and rejoined her arm with Simon's who took it gladly as she started to walk with him away from a still seething Draco.

They walked this way for a little while along the cobbled streets she knew so well, arm in arm with a man she'd only known for just over an hour, with Draco trailing behind. Simon had been discussing how the band had gotten together after he spotted 'Blake' drumming 'the life out of some upturned bins on Trafalgar Square' eight months ago. He'd introduced him to the guitarists that day who'd she had learned the names of as Kean, his surname apparently, and Alexei, who they called Al.

When Simon begun to ask questions about her that Hermione didn't know how to answer, 'Are you close with your family?', 'Where did you go to school?', 'Do you get out to clubs often with your friends?', it took all she had not to let her eyes pool and prevent the tears from falling. She did the first thing that came to her head in defence. She cleared her throat and pretended she had a different life. She imagined she'd never gone to a wonderful, magical school and that her parents weren't half the world away with no knowledge of her existence. Nor that she held a deep and seemingly life-long trauma of missing everyone she had ever known, except for the miserable man that followed behind them. She could play Hermione Granger, the muggle, for an evening and so she did. With every lie, she expected a grunt or a scoff to come from Draco's lips as she listened to the incessant way he kicked his feet and scuffed his shoes along the London streets, but she didn't. He was very loudly and noticeably silent. So much so that it only grew her curiosity in the man she'd locked lips with this evening.

"Mate, you look like a naughty school kid. Come here and grow up... I think she's brilliant. You have to come to our gigs more often, Hermione... I know someone who would certainly like it if you did"

Simon called over his shoulder to hurry Draco along and shot Hermione a wink on his last few words, making her blush. She turned her head slightly to see Draco huff out a breath, his fists shoved firmly in his pockets, and roll his eyes as he walked quickly towards them.

"Of course you'd like her, Si. You have a habit of bringing home pathetic unloved creatures. Are we there yet or what?"

He scowled at her from the side of his eye and she returned the favour right back.

"I don't know how Simon puts up with you" she tipped her chin upwards smugly.

"You best mates now then, yeah? Fuck Simon, we don't need another stray. Let's just drop this one home and go to bed. I'm knackered"

Stray? Fuck him, Hermione.

"Come on mate, there's such a thing as manners. And I bet you are after what I witnessed this evening" he shot two eyebrows to the sky at the both of them suggestively, seemingly trying to ease the foul mood that had fallen over the conversation. Unfortunately, he had misjudged Malfoy's mood.

"For fucks sake, nothing happened!" Draco bellowed, making Hermione jump slightly. She had a sickly feeling in her stomach and realised that his denial of what had happened between them hurt more than it should have.

She took the opportunity to stand up to him again, once more looking up into his grey, clouded eyes and he down into her hazels waiting for a fight. The thudding in her chest combined with the booze swirling in her gut gave her a sudden burst of confidence. She revelled in the bittersweet feeling of experiencing his anger, loving how he could raise her pulse like no other man, mixed with the disappointment of his denial. She'd wanted to phrase her next question better and in a way that would get an honest answer out of him but she found herself unable to hold back from his provocations.

"Nothing happened between us? You're saying you didn't feel a thing whilst your tongue was down my throat and my hands were on your chest? You're telling me that I just imagined your cock pushing on my thighs? Don't stand there and lie to me Malfoy!" she spat the words into his face, her utter disgust at his lies clearly resonating in her voice as she wanted it to.

He rubbed a hand over his sharp chin back and forth for a second, deep in thought, before his mouth curled upwards in a way that made her swallow hard.

"I didn't want to have to do this but clearly you both see that it's necessary. So here it is..." He gripped her upper arms tightly to the point that she looked down at his clamped hands marking her skin red before returning her glare to meet his. "I don't want you Granger, I don't like you and I can't stand you near me. You just looked so pathetic, standing there begging for me, can you blame me if I took advantage? You would have been a quick shag at best."

His words were like a steamroller to that flicker of feeling that had begun to settle in her stomach. Like it had never happened at all. Suddenly the events of the evening caught up with her at once and the overwhelming emotion was too much to handle. She hesitated for a moment and squeezed her hazels closed.

Don't do it. Don't you fucking let one tear fall.

No, you know he's telling the truth. Why would he want you?

"Shut up" she whispered to herself and when her eyes reopened, she watched his brow furrow, his malicious snarl dropped from his face as he looked at her suspiciously.

All this time you looked for him and it was for nothing. Go home Hermione before you embarrass yourself further.

"So I won't tell you again Granger, leave me the FUCK alone" he spat the words into her bewildered face.

Mione, I tried to tell you...

"No" she breathed out and placed her hands over her ears. Tried to occlude and find solace behind a stained-glass windowed antique cabinet door. She'd lock herself in there eternally if she could but found no energy to reach a reprieve. Draco stepped backwards once, dropping his grip from her arms, and fidgeted in his pocket, drawing her attention. Giving her something to focus on.

You're nearly home now. Just forget all about it darling, came a male voice she couldn't place in that moment but it sounded soothing, caring and safe.

Hermione watched as Draco pulled a piece of loose thread from his jeans tight around his fingers until the tips went red and she wondered just how far he'd go. Maybe he'd snap the thread off and drop it to the floor. It's what she would probably do. Instead, he repeatedly tightened the thread around his finger until he grimaced, loosened it and pulled it taut again.

"Hermione..." came Simon gently, splicing her away from her distraction.

"I'm fine" she snapped almost too aggressively and definitely far too defensively. She had to remind herself that none of this was Simon's fault and she wasn't about to be cruel to someone who'd only shown her friendship from the start.

She gulped and ran her hands through her thick bushy curls once, then twice, over her scalp to the nape of her neck. Straightening her back and falling back into her pretence, she managed to gather her nerves together.

"I'm nearly home and think I can manage the rest of the way by myself. It was nice to meet you Simon" she spluttered and flashed him a quick thin-lined smile. The need to run as fast as she could around the corner to hide herself away tested her will-power. She quickly turned her back to the two men, completely ignoring Draco, lifted her chin to the sky, took a large breath inwards and, as calmly as she could, walked away from them.

She felt exhausted and hurt yet oddly satisfied with her evening. Though she was terrified at the likely prospect of never seeing him again, nor the singer who'd shown her such compassion for a stranger, she at least had accomplished what she had set out to do. And she had hope in her heart that he would return to the Bless next week. And then she'd hurt him just as he had hurt her.

Maybe she didn't have to check for his presence in this world every evening anymore. Maybe she needed a break. Her nerves sky-rocketed at the idea and took all of the moisture from her lips but she knew it was the right thing to do. For the first time in years, she felt like she had won one small thing.

At least I know I can still feel. I'm not numb after all.

Why on earth it had fallen on her bad luck that the only person to give her such a precious gift also had to be a man that curdled her blood with rage, set her skin on fire and wanted nothing to do with her, she'd never know.

When she reached the corner of the road, she chanced a glimpse back at the white-haired man who'd sent her heart through leaps and troughs all within the space of a few hours. Simon had placed a hand on Draco's shoulder, his left stretched out in Hermione's direction with the palm facing upwards as if in question. She couldn't make out what they were talking about and would have loved to be a fly on the wall to understand why Draco's chin rested against his chest that rose and fell rapidly as if he was starved for breath.

Why does it matter?

"It just does" she answered openly, reservedly, into the empty June night.

Go home.

And so she did.

She rounded the corner and made the few extra steps to the front door of her apartment block. Hermione had never really taken notice before of the exterior of the building - she supposed she never cared to look. After all, she'd been in too much of a tired haze after coming home from work to take in her surroundings and her tipsy eyes would be unable to focus when she'd leave on her daily quest for the mysterious drummer. But now, as she took a second to take it in, she thought it quite quaint. A four-story narrow block with red bricks, a common feature of the buildings in the local area, Georgian sash window frames and a solid blue door at the entrance.

She pressed her hand against the cerulean frame and memorised the slight chips in the paint that made the perfect-looking doorway a bit more human. Something she could understand. It was vulnerable to the erosion of the world's forces, just like her. All of a sudden, her home didn't seem so domineering and dreary but somewhere she could - maybe one day - be happy in.

Maybe.

She took out her keys and with slightly blurred vision, her impending hangover pressing on her temples like a woodpecker making its first few taps into a pine tree, she managed to turn them in the lock. She took her time rising the stairs to her third floor apartment but not through her own insistence. Her feet zigzagged beneath her and she stared down to watch them, slightly chuckling to herself at the silly way they were behaving. The stairs seemed too narrow in one second then too wide in the next and her foolish feet just couldn't keep up with all of them, causing her to fall on her face once or twice. Not that she cared. She began to laugh slightly harder the more it happened and the closer she came to a near miss before grasping the bannister in front of her. Eventually, when she reached the final step before her floor, she took a seat right there, too exhausted for the moment and too busy giggling at herself to carry on.

Bloody hell, Mione, you're a liability.

Ginny's vivid laugh called to her but instead of the judgement the red-headed beauty normally passed, this voice was plucked from a memory. Hermione closed her eyes to drift into that serenity to recall the time she had sat, similar to her current state with her head in her hands and a thumping headache, on the top step of the Burrow, after a particularly heavy night of drinking with her old friend. They had been laughing and joking about nothing and everything - back when things were almost perfect. Back when the only worries she held were whether she'd get O's in her OWLs and what to get her mum for Christmas. At a time when the whisperings of a war were just that.

She breathed in a quick satisfied "hmm" and a smile threatened to break at her lips when a shadow passed over her long legs that spread down two more steps of the staircase.

Curious now at just who had interrupted her pleasant reflection and joyous alone time - the first occurrence of such in years - she raised her head and dropped her jaw.

"What the fuck-"

"Why are you-"

They spoke simultaneously and had the same expression on their faces - anger, confusion but most of all curiosity.

"I... We live here... what-" the snake muttered under his breath, words escaping him.

"You live here?!"

She laughed hard. Harder than she thought she ever could. Until her voice-box became strained and tears left her eyes.

This must be some cruel trick, she thought. You must be joking.

"I've lived here for 3 years, Malfoy" she sighed, wiping the tears of mixed-emotion from her face.

He slapped his thighs with both hands and knocked his head back before whispering to the ceiling sarcastically, "Perfect. Fucking perfect."

"Which floor?" She asked, having to know just how close she had been to him for the past 3 months without knowing it.

"Fourth. Loft suite." He admitted, incredulously. "You?"

He was one floor up this whole time?

She laughed because if she didn't, she'd cry.

"This is me" she pointed her thumb to gesture over her shoulder at the red door just behind them marked apartment 13.

He only nodded in reply and Hermione questioned his honesty. It was awfully strange that he'd openly shared which apartment he lived in when not ten minutes ago and several times that evening, he'd told her to leave him alone and never see him again.

"Well, well, well. Look who's here" Simon's dulcet voice called to her as he came to stand beside Draco a few steps down from her before the landing of the third floor. Only then did she realise she was technically blocking their path and stand to her feet as steadily as she could. She toppled to one side then the other slightly and was surprised to find two different hands grasp onto each of her wrists to support her. They lifted her to her feet smoothly but neither immediately let go once she was settled. In those seconds where she wasn't at risk of falling on her face again and the hands remained around the fragile bones that connected her hand to her arm, she studied each man's tattoos.

Draco's black snake that she had spent many nights thinking about looked more real when in this close proximity as if it could slither right off his hand, up his arm and around his neck. Every twitch of the ligaments controlling his fingers twisted and curved the smooth, textured back of the serpent in mesmerising motions. In fact, the snake had moved. She blinked. Yes it's definitely moving. She concluded that this tattoo was imprinted onto his skin with magical ink though by whom he would have gotten it she didn't know. The detail she had failed to pick up previously was perhaps it's most intriguing feature - an emerald green and almost sparkling, watchful eye. Like a perfectly cut gem. A spot of colour in his dark world.

Earlier this evening, she hadn't noticed Simon's red-haired wolf that spanned the entirety of his large hand. It was quite geometric in design with the way sharp, scratchy lines painted the back of his hand intrinsically. She thought how pretty it looked on his lightly tanned skin and a wild imagination passed her senses.

What would my animal be?

"Maybe I should get one" she chuckled out loud, meaning for her words to stay within her head where she mistakenly supposed they had remained.

Simon laughed with her whilst Draco remained expressionless but dropped her wrist, Simon following closely after.

"Have you got any tattoos? A bit of ink would look good on you" Simon suggested.

"Uhh well no... I haven't really thought about it until just now."

"You should. Wouldn't we three make an odd trio. Though Hermione, you'd have to get a predator to match, see?"

Draco scoffed and rolled his eyes before faltering under Simon's glare. The silver-haired torment then shot a softer look over to her, which made the flutter in her stomach soar, before gritting his teeth and clearing his throat.

"Yeah Granger... a lion might suit you... Gold ink" he proposed, much to her surprise. She eyed him suspiciously and internally questioned his change in attitude, finding it more nerve-wracking than his previous anger. Anger she could handle, mostly. But this... she had no clue.

"Oh uhm... do you think so?"

"A lion would look just perfect. What a brilliant suggestion, Blake." Simon clapped his hand to Draco's back once enthusiastically and locked eyes with the blond while a satisfied grin passed over his face.

Just what was that look about?

Now she was confused. Draco is making normal conversation with her and Simon looks pleased about it.

Maybe he's just happy to not be an outsider to your arguments anymore.

Perhaps Draco can't be bothered to get into another fight this evening.

Whatever the reason for the change, she'd find out exactly why. She added it to her list of questions in perfect cursive on the parchment scroll within her mind and tucked it away for another day. One where she wasn't so fucking tired. She let out a huge yawn, not caring about her rudeness for not covering her mouth with her hand, and felt her vision blacken at the corners. Her ankles seemed to give out on her and she almost fell right onto the two men who were standing dangerously on the edge of their step.

She knew she should be more concerned that she had just lost consciousness for a second there but once she felt the hands of her new friends around her upper arms pushing her back to her feet, she knew she had nothing to worry about. It felt madly freeing to put her trust in someone again, anyone. Even a man she'd just met. Even a man who she knew despised her.

Friends? My, you are more pissed than you thought Hermione. Malfoy is not your friend.

You hate him.

Do I? She questioned herself as she was lifted to a more secure area and gently placed by the musicians on the floor in front of her apartment door.

"Hermione, sweet, please could I have your door keys? We're just going to make sure you get to bed safely" Simon calmly asked her.

She heard him but his strained voice, from too much intense singing, seemed far away. It took her a second to recognise he'd asked her a question.

"Hmm?"

"Your keys, my love?"

"Oh... of course" she handed the keys to her home over to the brunette who swiftly opened the door to her dark flat.

"Blake, be a lamb and help me?" She heard Simon ask his friend as he placed his arms around Hermione's side in an attempt to lift her from the floor.

"Seriously? She's fine. She's 10ft from her bed, I'm sure we can..."

"Mate if you don't help her, the next time you look like this I'm just going to leave you. And trust me, that'll happen sooner rather than later" He warned the stubborn blond.

She heard Draco sigh before the tingle she'd felt earlier that evening whilst wrapped in his embrace met her once more. She felt it on her left wrist and lower back as he wrapped her arm around his shoulders - Simon mimicking him on the other side.

Were she more sober, she might have been embarrassed when Simon flicked on the light switch to reveal her messy living area. There were plates on the side of the sink left neglected from this day or that in the past week. Her hairbrush and clothes lay along the floor in piles that should definitely have been tidied away. In her state, however, she barely knew where she was anymore. The drink had seeped too far into her bloodstream and now she was a haze of all sorts of odds and ends - blood and guts, fire and water, confusion and lust, darkness and light.

Lust? Come on Hermione.

That red-headed boy called to her again but this time, she was too drowsy and content in the arms of her saviours to worry about what he thought at that moment.

They carried her through her small apartment until they reached the door they guessed housed her bed. Suddenly, she grasped a moment's clarity as she stared at the door she hadn't touched since the second night after she had moved in and jerked at the sight of it. A spatter of blood on ancient red bricks flashed through her mind. A lock of red hair. A dimple on pale skin.

"No" she wanted to scream the word though it only came out as a groan. She tried again, louder. She couldn't go in there. She couldn't see his face that way. Happy and hers. The way she'd never see it again. It had taken her years to try to scrape the image from the back of her eyelids and it still haunted her dreams.

"No please. Not there" she pleaded and the boys stopped in their tracks, looking at each other in puzzlement, before Draco's outstretched hand could turn the knob and awaken her nightmares.

"Granger?" He whispered in her ear, sparking a mix of feelings within her.

He sounded concerned. Just like he did at their spot the first time she saw him again, back when he was just a ghost. His voice was low and soft. It suited him and she liked it. Hoped she'd hear it again. It seemed to calm the growing panic she felt and pushed breath back into her lungs. As though he was breathing it into her himself. It sent a wave of relief through her temporarily before she opened her eyes once more to view the doorframe of her bedroom.

Not there.

"The sofa, please. I don't... I don't sleep in there"

Thankfully they had understood her slurred speech as she was turned away from the horrors that lay behind that door and made their way towards the living room again. She was placed gently down onto her sofa and once Draco was content with the fact that he'd done his bit, he stepped away and shoved his hands back into his pockets.

Maybe he's playing with that loose thread again. The material of his pocket bunched and flattened and she reasoned that he was.

Why does he hurt himself like that?

Wouldn't you if you were him?

A passing thought but one that she'd have to think about and now wasn't the time.

Draco watched as Simon took Hermione's shoes off her feet gently and pulled her legs onto the couch so that she laid in a foetal position and covered her with the heavy, thick-wool blanket.

"Blake, see if she has a bowl or bucket or something" he called over his shoulder as he brushed the hair from her face.

Without speaking, Draco moved over to her small kitchenette and opened the cabinets one by one. Hermione cringed as she remembered how bare her cupboards were of food.

After a few minutes, he returned to the couch and handed Simon a large bowl she recognised as one she had used once when she attempted to make pumpkin pie by hand. It had gone badly wrong and that was the last time she had baked. If she could even call it that. Baking was always her mother's skill - something she had in common with Mrs. Weasley. Her lips curled upwards as her eyes fell shut at the kindness her mind was now showing her by supplying her with pleasant memories. She almost drifted into unconsciousness once more thinking of two maternal figures that once graced her life.

"Hermione, stay awake for a second, lovely"

Simon's voice startled her awake as he placed the bowl on the floor beside her head. He tapped the edge of it twice.

"Just in case you need it"

She then heard a cough originating from behind Simon and watched, through peaky almost-closed eyes, as Draco handed him a glass of water.

"Thanks mate"

His silver gaze then met hers for a few seconds and he nodded over to her, his lips pulling into a thin-line.

His thoughtfulness shocked her enough to almost wake her completely from her stupor. Whilst Simon seemed altogether a kind person by nature, this one act from the man who had never said a positive thing about her meant all that much more.

Maybe he's been in this situation himself and is just being sensible.

He's just doing what Simon's told him to do, don't think about it. He's not a nice person.

But she would think about it. She didn't know what to believe anymore. This one evening had taken her through so many twists and turns mentally that she couldn't make head nor tails of the stormy-eyed man anymore.

Hermione even questioned whether any of this was even happening or if she had actually left her flat at all tonight. She could have gotten so drunk on her fire-whisky that this was all just an elaborate alcohol-induced dream.

Whether it was or wasn't, she could hardly care less. She hadn't felt so cared for and warm in so long that she prayed to herself they wouldn't leave. Tomorrow would be the same as any other if she knew she'd never see them again. She had to.

I have to see you again.

I will see you again.

She thought those heart-shattering words as she lost herself in his icy grey stare. Just as Simon placed the glass of water at her side, next to the bowl on the floor, she shut her eyes for the final time that night and heard their footsteps recede until the door latched shut behind them.

I'm not broken. I know that now.

There she fell into a dream-deprived sleep, a soft smile still painted over her honey-dipped face, that marked the first she had enjoyed so fully and woke from so rested since before the war.

She imagined him falling asleep just one floor up in his own bed and slept peacefully at the thought of not being alone.

Finally.