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Chapter 2: A different Kiss
Hermione's heart felt like bursting. She had never been happier! They had just won the war, and Harry killed Voldemort.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a flash of blonde at the entrance of the Great Hall. Not just any blonde, the platinum shade that could only belong to one. She pushed away from the suffocating crowd of rejoicing people, Harry, Ron, and headed towards him. Hermione weaved through the crowd, moving through the less crowded Entrance Hall, ignoring the well-wishers and bystanders that greeted her. She wanted to talk to one person, and one person only.
She found him on the grounds, looking at the Whomping Willow, facing the sunrise.
"Malfoy…" the words died in her throat.
He flinched, barely.
"Come to gloat, Granger?" He faced her.
She stifled a gasp. His charcoal grey eyes stared back at her, rimmed red with grief. He looked defeated, exhausted. Hermione mustered up her Gryffindor courage, and stepped up to him, almost touching, and pressed a hot chocolate into his hands.
"I thought you could use a drink," she whispered, looking up at him.
"Thank you," Draco whispered.
Then, she kissed him.
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