August 19, 2002

Hermione Granger tightened the knot of her hands in her lap, and kept her expression passive as Draco Malfoy stared back at her over the expanse of his large, mahogany desk.

"No."

Her jaw went slack, and then clenched until a buzzing started in her ears as she pressed her lips together. "What do you mean, no?"

His left eyebrow hiked as he shut the folder she had handed him. "You don't hear that word often, do you, Granger? It means-"

"I have holiday time written into my contract with this company for two weeks out of the six months. What grounds do you have to deny me a week of it?"

"Your contract clearly states that you can apply for holiday when you have fulfilled a month of employment-"

"Which I have."

"Which you have not." He held up his hand when she opened her mouth again. "You may have been here for five weeks, but you have not fulfilled the obligations you were meant to within the first four."

Hermione dug her fingers into her legs. "That is the fault of another department not securing an allowance for the import of Ocklebarm Feathers, and the Ministry for not completing the review of the request. If I had the Ocklebarm Feathers, the potion would be ready for testing."

"However, it is not, while it's in your contract-"

"Malfoy," she bit out, ignoring the professionalism she had tried to hold the past month, "it is unlikely the ingredient will arrive within the next week. This is a personal matter that is very urgent, and it requires my immediate leave."

"Be that as it may, you have a contractual obligation to remain working. The ingredient may arrive tomorrow, and even if it does not, there's other work that needs to be done."

She should have never started working here, despite all the benefits she had known came with it. Malfoy had the emotional depth of a stone when it fell on someone's head. She should have known this would happen.

Hermione grabbed her briefcase and stood to her full height, lifting her chin. Malfoy rose from his chair languidly, but there was a caution in his expression that proved he knew her better than she thought he did.

"I withdraw my request for holiday time. My request for termination will be on your desk in an hour."

She expected surprise, but there was only a brief slanting at the corner of his mouth. "I won't approve it, and ignoring that will be illegally breaking your contract."

"And I will not return, so I suppose I'll see you at the Wizengamot hearing in"-she raised her eyes to the ceiling-"two months, perhaps three." She turned, moving around the chair.

"Have you heard of Celia Barker?" he asked, his voice tighter than the bored tone he'd held earlier.

"Yes, but I'm not trying to leave the company with potion secrets out of revenge for you shagging me the day before you shagged someone else, am I?" She sniffed, heading for the door, and added, "Mister Malfoy."

She grabbed the thick, curved handle and pulled it open, just a second before it flew out of her grasp. She jumped as the door slammed shut, and then turned, giving Malfoy a look of disbelief. He stared back at her as he placed his wand on his desk, a muscle twitching in his jaw.

"Unless you've changed your mind, I am leaving now," she said lowly, her look a warning.

"Stay."

October 30, 2002

Hermione's eyebrows drew together as she looked down at Malfoy's palm. He had deep lines and a long lifeline, and the fingers of painters or musicians. Her fingertips tapped his like the keys of a piano.

"We could still escape to the bar," she whispered.

He smiled charmingly, but she wasn't deceived. "You should have thought of that before you announced you loved the song."

"I didn't think they would leave, like it was some cue for dancing." She glanced back down at his hand again. "How often do you wash those? I saw you shake hands with-"

Her hand was captured in his before she had even noticed it was moving, and he pulled her a step closer to him. Hermione looked up from his chest in surprise as he maneuvered them into the proper position, and then rocked them to the left. She was a step behind.

"You know, I don't even like this song," she whispered. "I only said it because of you."

Malfoy turned them as his eyes lifted to the ceiling, and the corner of his lips raised. "So you wanted to dance with me?"

"No, I certainly did not." She breathed a laugh of disbelief. "I said it because it was completely awkward after you told that Wilburn man we were no longer giving tours of the laboratories. And just a few minutes after Zilner said he'd had a lovely time during it last week."

He clicked his tongue, and his hand slid to the small of her back. "That was unfortunate."

"Very. I don't understand why you did it." His shoulder felt rather nice under her hand. Strong, steady.

"He wanted you to give him a personal tour," he said before spinning her, then pulled her back to him. "Perhaps you were blinded by my attractiveness"-she snorted-"or your bloated ego, but he's been salivating over you all night. I'd hardly trust him alone with you."

"Are you afraid I'll demand compensation or a break of contract if he tries to sexually assault me?"

"Of course not," he said, pulling her close enough that her chest brushed across his. "I'm afraid he'll take me for all I'm worth after you've torn his eyeballs out."

January 17, 2003

Draco took a sip of his Cognac, glancing up at her as he flipped a page over in his folder. He looked back down, and she heard him swallow.

"Have you been sleeping?" Nonchalant, mild interest, which meant he was very interested. He was always contradictory.

"Yes."

"You look like hell." He dipped his quill, and then wrote something at the bottom of the parchment. "Like a beast of hell who had risen to earth and eluded sleep for a week."

"Thanks, Draco, for noticing."

"I take pride in my power of observation."

Hermione would have rolled her eyes, but part of her was afraid moving them from a point of concentration would cause immediate unconsciousness. She didn't know when the last time she slept was.

"I visited the center today."

He didn't seem to know how to position himself - if he should continue reading, or give her his full attention. He settled on lifting his head and looking for a long time at the space of table between them.

"How are they?"

Hermione reached to wrap her fingers around his glass, pulling it back and to her lips. "Worse."

March 28, 2003

"I knew part of your job was to experiment, but I hadn't realized you took it as throwing the nearest ingredients into a cauldron and just seeing what happens."

Hermione shot Draco a glare as she scribbled down the last ingredient on her parchment. He had terrible timing. When he had shown up fifteen minutes ago, the potion had been brewing along quite nicely, but now it looked like acidic mud that just continued thickening.

It wasn't unusual for him to come down to the laboratories for no apparent reason other than to talk about random things. She might have enjoyed the company, but when the potion started to smell rotten around the time he had removed his robe, she was nervous. She hated giving him things to use against her, and she couldn't even blame the sight of his forearms or smile this time. Er, not that she ever blamed those out loud.

"These are very educated choices, based on research and experience."

"Is that so?"

He stood up from the chair he had taken a few feet away, and Hermione shuffled to the side, pretending to fiddle with the bottles on the table. As long as he didn't see the potion, he'd have no room to laugh at her.

"Yes. I am a very thorough researcher, who has read and worked with thousands of ingredients, and I'm very knowledgeable on all of them. So, any potions I create down here are made skillfully, even-"

He froze mid-step as she spun around, holding up a bottle of Frimper juice. Her index skated along the trigger of the spray top. It was meant to give a fine mist of the juice to potions that called for it, but she could easily turn that around to him.

"You don't want to come any closer."

His eyebrows rose slowly, and her eyes narrowed when she spotted his amusement through his careful expression. His gaze darted to the left so quickly that she would have missed it had she blinked, and she swayed her body in that direction.

"I assure you that I do."

"No, you don't. See, there's a certain combination of ingredients that releases a...certain toxin at this stage in the process. So if you came any closer, I'd have to spray you with this, which would...protect you from the toxin. But also turn your skin blue. Possibly for months!"

His eyes roamed from hers and to her feet, and she was shifting in awkwardness when they started back up again. Her work robe was splattered with different ingredients, her skin was shiny, and her hair was frizzy from working over steaming cauldrons. She looked a frumpy, frightful mess, and he seemed to be taking in every detail.

"Your skin isn't blue."

"That's because I took an antidote. Before."

He wasn't even trying to suppress the smirk anymore. "Let me guess - fresh out?"

She nodded. "You're a great guesser. You're...very skilled at guessing. Nearly as skilled as I am at potions, so perhaps you should leave me to it, and-"

"Do you know what else I guess?" he asked, something shifting in his eyes. "I-"

She squeaked and pulled the trigger when he darted forward, startled by the sudden movement, even if she should have expected it. Draco pulled up short, staring at the burst of blue on his forearm. She fought back her smile as he looked up at her, his surprise evident.

"I told you," she said, the laughter creeping into her voice. "It's for your own safety, really, so if you don't want to be covered head to toe, you should just step- Ah!"

He lunged for the bottle, and she got out two sprays before he twisted it enough for her finger to slip off the trigger. She gasped out a breath as she felt coldness flash across her cheek, and she grabbed the bottle with both hands, twisting it back around.

"Not fair! I am detoxified!"

"Yet still a liar," he grunted out as she shoved him in the chest with one hand, trying to pull the bottle from him with the other.

She managed to spray his shoulder before his thumb peeled her finger off the trigger, and she laughed at the blue across his neck when she looked up at him. She jerked backwards, throwing her weight behind the pull, at the same moment that he yanked the bottle from her hands.

Her head did not meet unconsciousness at the edge of the table like her panicked mind told her it would, and an arm caught her around the waist instead. She looked up with wide eyes, waiting for the blast to her face, but met Draco's eyes instead of the spray hole. He pulled her forward, back fully onto her feet, and then kept pulling.

Her body bumped against him, and it took her too long to notice she was clenching his shirt through all the distraction of his warmth and the look on his face. His arm wasn't pulling away from her, and his chest was rising and falling at the same speed as her rush for oxygen.

"What are you doing?" she whispered, trying to place the meaning of his expression.

"Guess," he said.

And then he kissed her.

July 20, 2003

Hermione placed the money on the bar, and slid it out more as she twisted to look at a corner table.

"You know, you don't have to watch them the whole time. I'm sure there would be yelling before wands are drawn."

Hermione looked over at Harry, and gave him a smile that probably proved her anxiousness more than it covered it. He tapped his fingers on the bar, waiting for their drinks, and kept an unconcerned back to the source of Hermione's very deep, nerve-wracking concern.

"I think they're getting along," she said, hearing a faint sentence from Ron about a Quidditch move. She couldn't see Draco's face, but she hoped he wasn't giving Ron that infuriating, scowling, I'd-rather-be-stabbing-myself look that she hated so much.

Harry raised his eyebrows, and she elbowed him in response. "They're both trying," he said, shrugging.

They were. Neither one of them wanted to be there with the other, but they both knew how important it was to her that they got along. Or, at least, were civil enough to stand being in the same room, and she wouldn't have to panic over leaving them alone together. So they were trying for her, and that meant more to her than she could have expressed.

She grinned at Ron when he glanced up, and saw his eyes widen before he muttered something. Draco turned to see her over his shoulder, raising his eyebrow in a look that clearly stated she'd be making it all up to him later.

Hermione blushed and cleared her throat, looking over at Harry, who was scratching his neck and looking at the ceiling. She took a deep breath and turned to grab their drinks, while Harry scooped up the other two and dropped the tip on the bar.

"Thanks for coming. Especially after the first two tries were..."

"Disastrous. You brought us to a stuffy, formal restaurant for the most awkward meal of our lives. Then you tried to cook at your flat with ten of your friends, and Malfoy got as cold as ice in discomfort."

"I had thought the formal setting would prevent fighting, and then I figured he'd get along with someone in the lot of you. I thought alcohol would hurt more than help."

Harry dropped his voice as they shuffled around a group of tables and neared their own. "Ron could have a good conversation with a bar stool when he's pissed enough."

Hermione laughed, and didn't miss the way Ron looked up in relief when they reached the table. She gave Draco his drink, and her fingers skated his hand before she took her seat. Ron grimaced, and chugged half his drink before she had managed to take a sip of her own.

"So, yeah," Ron breathed, his glass clinking against the table. "The Wigtown Wanderers..."

September 13, 2003

"I shouldn't have-"

"It's fine."

Hermione buttoned her coat, her fingers stiff and numb. She caught a peek at Draco as they turned, and he looked more nervous than he had before they arrived. He had looked on the verge of panic by the time she took his cloak off at his office and replaced it with a coat, informing him the center was Muggle and Wizarding. Now, after their visit, he just looked wild. His hand kept rising towards his hair before dropping, and he banged his shoulder off a passing woman without seeming to notice she had been there.

The lights turned into stars, and everything shimmered under the layer of her tears. Her breath kept catching in little huffs, and her fingers were trembling too hard to get the last button on her coat. She saw Draco turn his head to look at her from the corners of her eyes, and then press his lips together before looking ahead again.

"Shit," he whispered, or maybe just breathed out a hiss of sound.

His hand wrapped around her arm as he grabbed a handful of Floo Powder from the mantle in front of them. He tossed it into the fireplace and pulled her in behind him. She felt his chest rumble against her forehead as he called out their destination, and she lost herself in the depths of his coat as his arm wrapped around her shoulders.

January 5, 2004

"No, see, look..." She lifted her head from the crease between his arm and chest, and pushed herself up until her temple was pressed to his ear. "That's a man."

"I see a blob of water damage you haven't fixed yet, which leads back to my point that you've been working too much."

"You're not looking, Draco-"

"I'm staring."

"See, his arm is up like that," she said, the back of her knuckles skimming the underside of his chin as she raised her arm. "And his head is tilted right there, like that, and his eyes are... Okay, do you see where the brown part comes down at the top, like a little y?"

"No. I see-"

"Try! There's something there if you just try to look for it."

"I'm trying, but it's still a blob that made me think the roof was about to cave in on us when you were-"

"Here, just..."

Hermione grabbed the blanket, wrapping it around her as she tried to stand on top of the bed. It wobbled beneath her, and she spun an arm for balance as she clutched the blanket to her chest. Draco looked on in amusement, making no attempt to help. He was probably waiting for her to fall, so if she instinctively slammed a foot into his stomach for balance, she refused to feel guilty about it. Unfor-uh, fortunately, her foot hit the other side of him, and she evened out before injuring him.

"Now, look." She raised her chin, and had to press her hand to the ceiling when the upset of balance tried to pitch her backwards. "Here are the eyes, right here. The nose, mouth, neck, and his little striped shirt. Then his hair bits here, and a little hat. And his arm right here, reaching up to his hat. And this...is a monster coming at him as he's unaware."

Hermione narrowed her eyes and tilted her head. It had looked like a wilting flower from the bed, but it looked a lot more like a monster from here. There was even a little streak that could have been saliva or a giant fang in its open mouth.

She hummed, looking down at Draco, but he was studying her instead of the ceiling. The corners of his mouth curved into a small smile, and he reached up to tug on the blanket around her.

"You don't think so?"

He tugged harder, lifting himself up on one elbow, and the blanket pulled from her grip. "I think you think so."

She went to grab the blanket as Draco threw it to the side, but she was distracted by his nakedness. His hands skimmed the back of her knees before yanking her down onto his lap, and she grabbed his shoulders. She looked back up at the water damage, but all she could see was the man.

Draco's lips pressed to her throat, and her back straightened at the tickle of his breath. "You see it?" she asked.

He hummed, nodding twice as the grip on her nape pulled her face down to his. "I see it."

"I was right, then."

"Don't push your luck, Granger."

February 27, 2004

Hermione looked out at the grounds behind Malfoy Manor, her fingertips pressed to the cold glass. The empty tree branches around the property looked like cracks in the dark blue sky, as if the world was moments from falling apart.

Her eyes unfocused at the movement in the window, and then found Draco's form behind her. She tried to smile to ease the tension she felt radiating off of him, but her face was stiff, like the tears had coated her skin with cement.

She reached behind her, and he hesitated before crossing the short space. He ignored her hand for her hips, and his chest was cold against the warmth the fire had brought her back. She leaned back against him, shutting her eyes, and felt like sleeping a week or avoiding it for a decade.

"I love you, you know," she whispered.

He was silent a moment, and his hands tightened as he brushed his lips across the edge of her jaw. "...you, too," she heard him say through the murmur of his voice, and she opened her eyes again to the splinters in the sky.

March 18, 2004

Draco was standing on the other side of the door when Hermione pulled it open, and her head pulled back in surprise. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, and she couldn't remember a time when his beard looked that full after only one day. Let alone a time when he would have dared to go out in public with it, or the wrinkles in his clothes. She didn't remember him wearing what he was now when he left, and she wondered where he had gone.

Hermione crossed her arms, but some of her anger was lost in how horrible he looked - as horrible as she felt. He stared back at her with an expression she had never seen on him, his eyes wide and unmoving on hers. His nostrils flared as he exhaled for the first time since she opened the door, and then he was breathing as quickly as he would have had he ran all five flights of stairs to her flat.

"Why didn't you just use your keys - did you leave them? Though I should have made it so the wards didn't even let you in-"

He stepped forward and against her, pushing her back into the flat, and grabbed her face. Her mouth was open in surprise, but he was kissing her before she could even blink. He groaned, low and deep, and it vibrated against her chest as she sucked in a breath.

His hands pushed up into her hair, and his fingertips rubbed circles against her scalp before his palms slid back to her cheeks. He staggered them back a step, and he shifted, his foot connecting with the door before it slammed shut. His thumb traveled back and forth along her cheekbone as the other hand ran along her jaw, then down to the side of her neck.

She curled her fingers in his shirt, and he moaned when his tongue pushed into her mouth. He tasted like the cold and him, and she reached to scrunch her fingers through the hair of his beard before throwing her arms around his neck. His hands ran up and down her sides, circled along her back, traced her spine. He cupped her bum, and she let out a little breath as she lifted to the tips of her toes.

It had been at least two months since he kissed her anywhere near like this, and her heart was thundering because of it. The press and pull of his mouth, the explorations of his tongue, and his hands all over, held something desperate that echoed back into the rush of her blood. She felt scattered, but only within the width of his arms. She wanted to keep falling apart just to feel the ways in which he put her back together again.

He pushed his hands under her shirt and over her stomach, and she moaned when he palmed her breasts. His hips jerked at the sound, thrusting stiffness against her stomach, and he rasped a sentence she couldn't understand.

She pulled her head back, gasping for breath, and he placed his forehead on hers as his hands reached for the button of her jeans. He tugged on the waist to bring her forward when she swayed her hips back, and she grabbed the buckle of his belt. His eyes were wide again, dark and shining, and she didn't miss the tremble of his fingers as he pulled her jeans and knickers over her hips. She yanked his trousers and shorts down, and then reached under his shirt, sliding her hands up his chest.

It only took a tiny lift of her chin for him to kiss her again, his palms smoothing over her bare bum and thighs. He bent his knees to grab the back of her thighs and haul her up against him, and she wrapped her legs around his hips. She thudded hard against the door, and he shoved her shirt and bra up to her shoulders, cupping her breasts.

"Dray-co," she panted out, tilting her hips.

"I love you," he gasped out as she circled her fingers around him, guiding him to where she needed him to be.

"I love you, t-oha." The back of her head thunked into the door as he thrust into her, his teeth bared against her shoulder as he groaned loudly. "Oh, yes, love, love, luh."

He captured her mouth, rocking against her, and she caught his rhythm. He grabbed her hands from his shoulders, and lifted her arms, pressing the back of her hands against the door. She pushed her fingers between his, moving to kiss his cheek, his jaw, and then his ear as he bent to kiss her neck.

He visited all the places he knew drove her towards madness, and when she was shaking, his right hand left hers for the spot sure to send her over the edge. A guttural sound growled up from her chest as he rubbed the tip of his finger against the tiny bundle of nerves, and he raised his head to kiss her, as if he was trying to swallow the sound.

Their frantic pace was hindered by the instinctive jerking of her hips, and he rubbed faster before bending his head to bite into the spot where her shoulder and neck met. Hermione cried out, her head slamming back against the door as everything that ever kept her bound exploded from her. She felt like she was floating out into the clouds, and then pulled sharply back into the shaking inside of her that was knocking loose every good feeling she could have.

Draco was pounding into her, his fingers surely leaving bruises on her hip. The fingers of her left hand, still threaded through his, were stiff and hard to move, but she decided she'd leave them there, attached to his hand forever. She uncurled the fist in his hair, and then curled it again as his tongue flashed hotly over the bite in her skin.

His thrusts were growing erratic as she pushed her heels against his bum. She held her breath when he buried his face into her neck, as if to take in every bit of sound that shoved its way out of his mouth as he came. He stilled, reveling in the feeling still sweeping through him, and then collapsed against her.

She panted for breath, threading her fingers through his hair. Their joined hands slipped from the door, hanging at their sides, before he pulled them up between their chests. His heart was slamming against the back of her hand, and she turned her head to kiss his sweaty brow.

"Don't go," he muttered, his voice rasping. "Draco-"

"You'll die. They'll never find you."

She pulled her head back as much as she could while against a door, tucking her chin to her chest. "Is that why you're so angry? You're scared of what might happen?"

"I know what will happen."

"Draco, there hasn't been any reported deaths there since-"

"Do they seem like the place to report a death?" he snapped.

Her lips pursed as she shot him a look, but she still felt too good to be angry. "I-"

He lifted his head, and the look on his face stole her words away. "Get me to go with you."

"You can't come. Your past... They wouldn't approve you there. Their- I barely made it in."

"It's too dangerous, Hermione-" "I've faced more danger."

"That doesn't matter."

He released her hip and hand to cup her face, kissing her in a slow drag of lips. She stretched her fingers out between them, trying to ease the cramp in them as she kissed him back.

"I'll give you anything if you stay. Anything."

Hermione kissed him again, again, once more. "Unless you have the cure somewhere, I'm going."

He pulled his head back to stare at her for several seconds, his eyes digging into hers, and her heart started speeding up again for a reason she couldn't understand. His arms wrapped around her, and he turned them, his feet shuffling as they moved towards the couch. She ran her hands down his face, and twisted hairs of his beard together.

"You need to shave."

He paused, something like surprise flitting across his face, and then he laughed. She smiled at the sound as it broke through the tension between them, and her thumb slid along the shape of his grin. His eyes were bright when he looked up at her, amusement mixed with knowing, and it felt like the first sign that they were getting back to normal.

He laid her back on the couch, his eyes flicking over her expression as his own shuttered into resolve. He brushed his lips against hers, and then kissed her fully for a moment as he pressed her arms to her sides.

"Petrificus Totalus," he whispered, and shock erupted in her chest as her body froze. "Get some sleep. I'll be here in the morning," he told her. "And so will you."