A sharp pain in his shin roused Draco at an indecent hour. Survival instincts kicked in immediately, and Draco shot out of bed with his wand in hand. "No… no… please no… no no," a muffled and agonized murmuring came from Hermione. Realizing that it was she who had kicked him, he relaxed momentarily, but Hermione kept up her pained pleading. "No it can't be… no… no…"

A movement behind her head startled Draco until he saw it was the ginger monstrosity of Hermione's cat planted firmly on her side table, flicking his yellow eyes between his owner and Draco as if to say, "Well don't just stand there, do something you moron."

Draco touched a tentative hand to her shoulder and gave it a slight shake. "Granger… Granger wake up!"

She continued to moan and twist her legs around the covers, her face scrunched in despair. Draco climbed back into bed beside her and held her tightly to his chest. "Granger, you're fine, you're fine… you're okay… you're okay…" he whispered soothingly until he felt her tremors stop and she jerked awake.

"M-Malfoy?" Her eyes opened wide, still fearful, as if whatever had been plaguing her dreams was still in her line of vision. Her expression quickly morphed into one of embarrassment.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to… Oh my God!" She burst into noisy tears and Draco looked on helplessly, unsure of what was expected of him in this situation. She shook in his arms, desperately trying to stem her tears and catch her breath.

"Do you want me to Floo someone?"

This was apparently the wrong thing to say, because she squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head furiously.

"No! Please… please just… could you… could you just rub my back?" The request came in such a small, broken voice that made Draco think she expected him to refuse her.

He coaxed her back on her side again so he could settle behind her, still unsure of his role. He carefully raised a large hand and moved it in slow circles on the skin of her back.

"Is this what you meant?"

Hermione's head bobbed in a nod, and he kept up his ministrations, both hearing and feeling as her breathing slowed to a more relaxed rhythm. After a few minutes, she let out a contented sigh and snuggled closer against his chest.

"Better?"

"Much, thank you."

"Do you… want to talk about it?"

Draco felt her shift, presumably as she decided whether or not to share.

"Not right now. I think sleep would be best."

"All right." He tried for a neutral tone, but Hermione was too clever not to spot the insecurity.

"You really helped," she whispered, and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "I meant what I said earlier. I need you too."

When she was asleep a few minutes later, Draco luxuriated in the swelling feeling of pride that he had successfully comforted Hermione in her time of need. Perhaps, he thought, as sleep finally claimed him, he wasn't so bad at this whole relationship thing. I am okay with this.

Draco woke to the most heavenly smell of coffee, tea, and what he would guess to be pancakes. He was alone in the bed, but a soft humming from the direction of the kitchen clued him in to Hermione's whereabouts. Throwing on his discarded boxers, he padded down the hall and stopped at the kitchen threshold.

Hermione's back was to him, a mug clutched in one hand while she sprinkled blueberries into a bowl of batter. Trading the mixing spoon for her wand, she directed perfectly even portions of batter to float from the bowl and plop gently onto a heated griddle, where they came to rest with a satisfying sizzle.

Draco leaned against the wall and observed her masterfully charm a spatula to flip the pancakes at precise intervals, while she moved gracefully along her counter to add other ingredients to her bowl. All the while, she hummed along to a haunting, low tune coming out of her Muggle wireless device. The device looked similar to the magical radios that picked up the Wizarding Wireless Network, but Draco had never heard music like this before. The tune was simple, but the song seemed maudlin, and Draco wasn't sure he liked it or not. Plus the singer kept repeating a word Draco couldn't understand.

"Is that some obscure Latin word? I don't know it." Hermione whipped around and almost dropped her mug of tea in surprise.

"Holy Merlin Malfoy! You frightened me half to death!"

Draco smirked and with a shrug, set himself down on a stool behind her kitchen island.

"Good morning to you too."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Blueberry or chocolate chip?" She gestured vaguely at the floating spatula that was now flipping finished pancakes onto plates.

"Both."

"Syrup or butter?"

"I enjoy my syrup with a side of pancakes," he grinned wolfishly.

She plopped a heaping stack of pancakes in front of him along with a bottle of syrup and a mug of coffee. Fuck, he could get used to this. Draco immediately set to drowning his stack in an obscene amount of maple syrup as Hermione wrinkled her nose.

"You're a heathen. It's a miracle your teeth haven't rotted out of your head."

Draco merely smiled at her through a mouthful of fluffy, chocolate, syrup-soaked goodness. Hermione took the stool next to him after fixing her own plate and adding a pat of butter on top.

"Did you ask me a question about Latin?"

"Oh, right," he swallowed an impressive mouthful of pancake and continued. "That song… I couldn't make out the word but I hadn't heard it before. Was that Muggle radio?"

"Yes, but I'm trying to remember… oh! The song I was humming. The word is 'hallelujah' but in Latin it's 'alleluia.' It's a Hebrew phrase meaning 'praise the lord.'"

Draco almost dropped his fork. "Wait, that surely doesn't mean—"

"No, not Voldemort!" She cut in quickly and Draco winced at the name. "It's just a popular song, but the title refers to lord as in God, you know, Muggle Judeo-Christianity."

"Ah, ok." There were so many weird intricacies to the Muggle world and if he were being honest with himself, it sometimes seemed far more complicated to be a Muggle than a wizard.

"Sorry if I woke you, I had the itch to cook this morning. My parents and I used to do this most weekend mornings, listen to music and make a mess in the kitchen."

"Granger, feel free to wake me any time if you've got coffee and pancakes waiting for me." Hermione beamed at him and planted a kiss on his cheek.

"I should introduce you to more Muggle music," she said and hopped off her stool. She levitated their dishes to the sink and set a charm for them to self-wash.

As she came around the island, Draco reached out to grab her wrist and pull her to him.

"Are you feeling all right? After last night?"

Hermione shrugged. "I'm fine, it wasn't anything to worry over," she stated simply, but Draco arched a brow at her, calling her bluff.

"Sorry, I know brushing it off is unhealthy."

"Then don't. You don't have to put up the brave front all the time. Especially not with me," he said quietly and she relaxed in his arms.

He felt Hermione take a few deep breaths against the skin of his bare chest, steeling herself. "It was one of my most awful nightmares," she admitted against him. Draco closed his eyes and pressed his lips to her hair.

"Was it about… her? Bellatrix?" he asked softly, reflexively holding her tighter as guilt coursed through him.

"No," she replied, shaking her head, her hair tickling his chin. "No, it was about Harry."

Draco felt her curl in further to his body, so he mimicked the soothing ministrations against her back with his hands as he had the night before. It seemed to give her comfort, and she continued. "I dreamt about the battle at Hogwarts. When Voldemort emerged from the forest and Hagrid… Hagrid was carrying Harry's body and he… V-Voldemort… when he crowed about Harry being… about Harry being dead, and I remember—" she pulled away slightly to wipe at a few escaped tears. "I remember all the hope going out of me in that moment. I… I couldn't process it. How could Harry… after everything… how could he… could he have been dead? I've never felt so terrible in my entire life. It felt like we'd failed him. Like I'd failed him."

She finally shuddered against him and Draco let her cry silently against his chest. She sniffed loudly and pressed on. "I was so angry with him, with Harry. When he made his grand reveal that he'd only been feigning death. I was so, so angry. I understand why he did it, obviously, but a selfish part of me felt for a moment that he had no right, no right whatsoever to make me, Ron, and Ginny, and everyone believe for even a moment that he was gone from this world, that we were on our own."

Draco brought a hand up to stroke her hair, relieved when he felt some of the tension leave her small frame. "Have you ever told Potter this?"

That got a snort out of Hermione. "Of course not, it sounds absolutely ridiculous when I admit out loud that I was mad at my friend for pulling off a spectacular ruse and saving the entire world. But Ron… I've told Ron," she admitted in a small voice and Draco tried, and ultimately failed, at quelling a surge of jealousy. "Ron understood because he felt exactly the same. The two of us had spent practically our entire adolescence keeping Harry alive and for him to just… be dead? Gods, I don't think we'd ever felt more inadequate than in that moment."

"You and Weasley have quite the bond."

Hermione tilted her head up sharply and narrowed her eyes at Draco. "Don't do that. Ron and I are best friends, nothing more. We've been through too many strange, life-altering and ridiculously dangerous situations to not have a strong, life-long bond, and I don't expect you to understand that but—" She brought her palm up to cradle the side of Draco's face soothingly. "I'm with you now. Again, I don't expect you to understand the relationship between me, Ron, and Harry, but you can ask me anything, and I'll do my best to explain. I won't keep anything from you."

Draco nodded, leaning further into her touch. He had a million questions, some appropriate (why on earth did Weasley ever let you go?), some less so (how many times, on average, did Weasley make you come during sex?). But today was not the day for the exes' conversation.

"Would you believe me if I told you I felt actual despair when the Dark Lord proclaimed Potter was dead?" He confessed quietly. Hermione looked at him earnestly, the warmth in her brown eyes comforting and encouraging him. "All my life, I'd honestly hated him. Potter. But even I knew, towards the end, witnessing everything that You-Know-Who was capable of… even I could feel that Potter was the best chance." Draco paused to swallow a lump in his throat.

"My family, we survive, by any means possible. That's what we've always done. And I knew if Potter were actually dead, then there was truly no hope. My family were not going to make it in the Dark Lord's regime, we'd displeased him too much in those final days, finally become disposable. So when I saw his body, heard he was dead… I started making every contingency plan I could think of to get my mother out of there alive. Not that it mattered," Draco heaved a sigh. "Because once again, Myopic Boy Wonder miraculously survived. Merlin knows how, and I certainly don't believe half of what was written in the official account by the Daily Prophet."

"It's a thrilling tale. I'll tell you some time." She smiled coyly at him and his heart fluttered. He'd just confessed his cowardly thoughts about wanting only to protect his mother during the battle and she still eyed him with affection. Was this what a healthy relationship was? Unburdening of long buried secrets, revealing of weaknesses to another person, and only to have that person cling closer to you, rather than recoil in horror?

"I was glad your side won you know," Draco said hoarsely. "Perhaps not at first, because I don't think 'gladness' was in my emotional wheelhouse at the time, but eventually, I was glad. Because it was over and I was just so bloody exhausted that I didn't give a shite what happened to me because I knew nothing could be worse than what had been done to me, to my family, in my own home. Things so awful that I… I never wanted to go back."

Hermione frowned in understanding and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "What happened to your manor? Did you sell it?"

Draco shook his head. "The Ministry seized it as it was technically a crime scene. They confiscated everything they could then relinquished the rest of our books, paintings, furniture, anything not deemed 'dark.' I don't know what they use it for now, but good riddance."

Hermione sighed then dabbed her eyes dry. "Right, I think that's enough macabre talk for today." She stepped out of his embrace to finish cleaning up breakfast.

"I think we're due for something fun today. Did you have any plans?"

"Oh, was I allowed a say in this? I didn't realize you gave your hostages a choice in the matter."

"What on earth are you on about?"

Draco smirked at her befuddled expression.

"You kidnapped me, just last night."

"I did no such thing!"

"Why Granger, don't you recall last evening when you barged into my home, unannounced, and proceeded to kidnap me by means of shoving me through the fireplace? Honestly, I'm the victim here."

She charged to playfully shove him, but Draco grabbed her hands and secured them around the back of his neck before sweeping her into a kiss.

"Did I happen to mention I'll play hostage with you any time? I quite liked being at your mercy," he teased, once they emerged for air, several snog-filled minutes later.

Hermione rolled her eyes and disentangled from his embrace. "Yes, yes, you're a helpless little lamb, aren't you? Run home and find some casual clothes, I'm parading you about the Muggle world today."

When he'd obeyed her and returned via Floo after about 30 minutes, Hermione let out a chuckle at the sight of him.

"What's so funny? Wasn't this all right when we dined at the Muggle restaurant?" Draco tried not to pout, but was sure his expression had soured at her laughter. He was wearing a casual black suit, white collared shirt, but sans tie. He looked positively plebeian.

"I'm not making fun, really, but do you always have to look so… so..."

Draco arched a brow as she stumbled over her words.

"Ugh, so put together! I mean, do you even own any t-shirts?"

"Of course, for flying or under a quidditch kit."

"How about jeans?"

"And what possible reason could I have for owning a pair of jeans?"

Hermione snorted and muttered what sounded like "snob" under her breath but he let it go. "What I'm doing a poor job of saying is that you look entirely too nice for a day of larking about London. Lose the suit jacket and cuff links and you'll do."

"As you wish, peasant."

Being out in the Muggle world came with a strange sense of freedom. Of course Draco was somewhat used to being an unknown entity at the coffee shop, but going out in the world for such an extended period of time with Hermione by his side was an entirely new sensation.

They walked along the Thames talking of everything and nothing, enjoying the gorgeously mild spring weather. No one glared at him. No one spewed insults. No one whipped out a wand threateningly. No one popped out of the bushes to snap photos of Draco and Hermione together. Draco had been too wrapped up in his own brooding the night they'd had dinner before the opera to truly appreciate just how unknown he was in this version of London.

It hit Draco suddenly, as they came across an outdoor farmer's market, the gift she was giving him. Only yesterday he'd felt scared, tense, stressed by both his past actions and the uncertainty of his future. But none of those dark thoughts seemed bothersome today. It felt easier to breathe, his whole body felt more relaxed than it had in ages, and Draco wondered if Hermione even knew how much he appreciated this opportunity. Today he was just an ordinary man, out and about with his girlfriend. Normalcy had never felt so thrilling.

When he wanted to sling his arm around her shoulders as they walked, she let him.

When she became excited by a vendor stall and dragged him over by the hand and interlacing their fingers, he let her.

When he leaned in to kiss away the drop of strawberry ice cream that lingered on her lips, she let him.

When she shoved a bunch of novels at his chest in the middle of the bookstore and insisted he take them home to read, he let her.

After a long day of leisurely strolling, chatting, ice cream indulging, and shopping, Hermione squinted into the setting sun and turned to Draco with a question.

"Dinner?"

"Has anyone ever told you how delightful an abductor you are? I'd love some dinner."

"For the last time, I did not kidnap you."

"Yes, yes, keep practicing that statement for the Aurors."

They settled on an outdoor café and over plates of fish and chips, Hermione excitedly reviewed all her gift purchases from the day. Her mother's birthday was approaching, as was Padma's, and she was inordinately pleased at having knocked both those tasks off her list today. They chatted long after their plates had been cleared, but neither was keen on letting the night end.

"Drinks?"

"Clever. Get me all liquored up so my memories of being taken by force are compromised. I'm a less reliable witness now."

"You're incorrigible."

And I'm yours. I'm all yours.

Hermione remembered a lounge with live music she used to frequent several years ago and towed Draco along, intent on introducing him to non-magical cocktails. He proclaimed her vodka with cranberry juice "utterly vile" but when she ordered him a "rum and Coke" he almost chugged the entire glass in one go as she giggled.

"Slow down there, you lush. I'll introduce you to Muggle soda another day, since your sweet tooth knows no bounds, apparently. But this has quite a bit of rum in it, so take it a little easier."

They sat closely in the dimly lit club at a little table, nursing their drinks and listening to tonight's live entertainment in the form of a guitarist. Draco's hand rested on the table, and during a discussion on the best way to reserve juices from the sophorous bean, Hermione reached over and interlaced his fingers in hers. Still not quite used to such intimate displays in public, he stopped talking and met her shy, yet bold, gaze. It was but a simple gesture, but it made Draco's breath catch in his throat. He coughed lightly and resumed their discussion, but noticed Hermione had a permanent smile affixed to her face ever since he'd accepted her touch.

The musician performing wasn't half bad in Draco's opinion, but his exposure to Muggle music was extremely limited and he'd much rather pay attention to Granger. Draco and Hermione spent most of the night talking amongst themselves anyway, but Draco's ears pricked up when he heard a familiar set of chords and the word that had niggled in his mind from earlier this morning in Hermione's kitchen.

"Hey, I know this one! Err... Hallelujah? Did I pronounce that correctly?"

Hermione smiled at him indulgently and laughed. "Very good, 10 points to Slytherin."

After a few more songs and a few more drinks, Hermione seemed to have other things on her mind besides music and theoretical potions. She removed her hand from Draco's and it disappeared into her lap. Thinking she may have just experienced a hand cramp and needed a break, he almost jumped out of his chair when he felt a pressure on his thigh. Draco sucked in a breath as her hand crept higher and higher, until it was dangerously close to his inseam. Emboldened by her smirk and extremely turned on, Draco leaned over and planted an openmouthed kiss underneath her ear.

"Careful, Granger. I'm not above breaking a few public indecency laws by having you right here on top of this rickety little table," he whispered threateningly, and a small moan escaped her lips.

"Take me home now, please," she breathed and they left immediately, Draco throwing enough money at the bartender on the way out to settle their drink tab.

Both a little buzzed, their lips found each other's as soon as they entered her home. Draco pushed her up against the front door, reveling in the sweet taste of the fruit juice and alcohol still on her breath. Hermione tried to kick off her shoes simultaneously, resulting in her stumbling a bit and knocking her head into Draco's chin. They both giggled at her clumsiness before resuming their snogging.

"Mmm… fancy continuing this in the shower?" she suggested, as Draco kissed down her neck to her chest. He hummed in approval and she led the way, discarding clothes as they went.

They made an unfortunate discovery when Draco had her back pressed up against the wet tile: the disparity in their heights made shagging against the wall quite impossible, unless they wanted to risk Hermione slipping out of his grasp and tumbling to the hard floor of the tub, which would probably take the romance out of the act.

That didn't mean Draco wasn't going to take advantage of having a soaking wet and very naked Hermione in his presence. He'd never seen her this way; curly hair slicked to the sides of her head and neck under the warm spray of the shower. Since sex would need to wait, they took turns washing each other, and Draco realized the intimate act of cleaning and being cleaned by another was a first for him. Quickly though, the chore of lathering soap onto hair and skin became less about getting clean and more about working themselves into a lust-filled frenzy. Draco was rather unnecessarily rubbing soap all over Hermione's breasts with a wicked grin, relishing in the softness of her flesh in contrast with the hardened peaks of her nipples under his thumbs. The flowery smelling suds running in rivulets down her chest mesmerized him as Hermione reached between them to pump his cock. Gasps and moans filled the chamber of the shower before Hermione broke first.

"Draco please. I need you now," she whimpered.

Not even bothering to towel off, they stepped out of the shower and Hermione backed into the bathroom counter, Draco following immediately to cage her in with his arms and a kiss. She hopped up onto the wide counter so Draco could step between her legs and gather her closer. With a whispered query of "Is this what you want?" and a desperate reply of "Please, Draco," he was inside her. Hermione locked her legs around his torso, heels digging into his back while Draco found a steady rhythm. The large, waist-high mirror behind the sink meant Draco could watch himself fuck Hermione on her counter and he was a little surprised at how erotic he found this.

He envisioned spinning her around so he could see her face reflected too, forcing her to watch herself getting railed from behind, but they had yet to try that position and he was unsure how to ask. Still, that thought of taking her that way made his cock stiffen even further and seconds later Hermione came with a cry as he gave her a small love bite just above her collarbone. She grabbed his face in her hands to kiss him deeply, and Draco moaned in her mouth as she angled her hips upwards to meet his now frantic thrusts. He wound one hand into her wet hair and gripped her backside with the other to give him the leverage he needed to snap his hips forcefully against hers. There was only the feeling of her surrounding and enveloping all of his senses, and Draco's release was upon him as he squeezed her arse and came with a strangled gasp of "Hermione," into her ear.

Hermione, Hermione, Hermione. These four syllables had taken root in his mind until he couldn't think anything else, didn't want to know any other word or name ever again.

I am okay with this.

A/N: I hope everyone is doing their best to stay safe and healthy! Thank you to anyone who takes the time to read this and leaves me a follow/fave/comment/etc. It's wonderful and appreciated so much. Always down to answer questions or chat in the comments or on tumblr: heyjude19-writing.