"I can't," she heaves a breath and pushes him away.
The first time she's ever touched him.
"You can't say that," she sobs, walking away from him. "You don't just get to decide that you want me and expect me to be ok with that. You don't even know me."
"I know that when you're frustrated you tug on your hair until it's a veritable mess, plaiting and re-plaiting it until whatever problems been bothering you has been solved. I know that when you're eating revels you pick out the small, oddly shaped one-"
She gapes at him and whispers. "The raisins."
He nods. "The raisins. When you're searching for reference books you make a list, throw your hair into a bun, put your hands on your hips and then stomp off and find them alphabetically."
"How -"
"I did notice you Hermione," he sighs, sliding down the wall.
"Then why-"
"My mother was an Alpha." Hermione stares blankly at him. He's not looking at her, instead fiddling with an invisible and probably non existent piece of lint on his trouser leg.
"Ok?"
"And my father was an omega." That is surprising. And rare. "He didn't have a choice."
"A choice?" Hermione squeaks out from her spot on the floor opposite him.
He jerks his head. "She," he swallows roughly and meets her eyes. "She forced him. Rutted him until she was pregnant even though his heat had finished. Bonded him to her right there and then."
"That's-"
"Horrific," he finishes for her. "Barbaric. Rape."
She nods. "I'm sorry."
He waves her apology off, looking away. "My point is. He never had a choice and I did. I didn't want to force anyone to be with me or have someone forced on me. I chose to date Harry and then -"
"And then you met me."
"And then I met you and it was…."
"Terrible."
He shakes his head vehemently. "No. It was a revelation. But…." He trails off and takes a breath. "I wanted to be with Harry. I chose that and he chose me."
"Well you didn't really give me a chance to choose you," Hermione mutters petulantly.
"I know. And then me and Harry broke up and you were-"
"Gone." She nods, swallowing. "I ah-" she clears her throat. "I love Harry but I couldn't stay here and watch the two of you be in love."
"I get that. And I'm sorry. But you didn't even know me," - her head snaps up- "and you thought I belonged to you."
"You're my mate."
"I am. But I'm a person too."
She snorts and stands, hitching her bag on her shoulder as she smoothed the skirt of her dress down.
"Cool."
"Where are you going?"
She turns to face him. "My parents are bonded. They're the happiest people I know and watching their relationship as I grew up? That was what I wanted. I wanted my soulmate with me everyday to share my life with - the good days and the bad." She swallows. "I'm sorry about your mother. I'm sorry she took that choice away from your father, I am. But I want to be with you. And sure, I might not know you now but, I thought we would have the rest of our lives together. Plus it's not like I ever expected us to bond during my first heat. I thought we would date. But you don't see that," she laughs so she doesn't cry. "You don't want that."
"I do."
"Why? Why now?"
"Because-"
"Because you saw me with another alpha and decided."
"No-"
"Then why-"
He stands from the ground and glares at her. "If you would let me speak!"
She waves a hand in his direction and taps her foot impatiently.
"You are infuriating!" He sighs. "When me and Harry broke up I realised that I had been wrong. That I'd treated you badly and mishandled the whole situation. I could have been your friend but by the time I realised all of this you were gone and I was so ashamed Hermione," he steps towards her, slowly, "and I knew I couldn't ask Harry, risk him finding out the truth because he was my friend and I didn't want to lose him too."
"If you had just talked to me," she whispers, right as he reaches her. Tentatively he takes her hands in his and presses his thumbs to the inside of her wrists.
"I know. And I'm sorry. But I want us to try."
"To try?"
"Being friends."
She nods her head and tugs her wrists from his grip. "Of course."
"Hermione?"
She looks up and meets his eye, a dangerous task for anyone but especially for her in her weakened emotional state. She knows if he felt so inclined he could simply command her with a word and she'd be his. "What?"
"The strongest relationships are built on friendships are they not?"
She huffs a breath and nods, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Yeah." She pulls her coat closed, "I need some time to think?"
"Of course," he agrees, sidestepping her to unlock and open the door. "I have your number, from Harry," he clarifies at the raising of her eyebrows and she sighs. She really needs to speak to her friend. He's probably having a crisis worrying about the relationship he used to have with her Alpha. Tom walks her down the stairs until they're on the street. "I'll text you?"
She sighs and nods with a small smile, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Yeah. Text me."
She sees Draco the next day when he turns up at her flat, freshly returned from a three week honeymoon in the Caribbean.
"How are you still this pale?" Hermione teases pressing a cup of coffee into his hands.
"I lived in the shade and I do have a slight tan," he huffs.
"You're right," Hermione snorts taking a sip of her beverage, "you used to be milk bottle white and now you're peachy white."
Draco glares at her over the rim of his cup. "And here I left my newly wedded wife to check up on you? I'll leave you to it."
Hermione chucks a chocolate chip muffin at him though he gamely catches it mid air and simply smirks at her. "Arsehole."
He peels the wrapper off the baked treat and levels her with a look of such seriousness she looks away. "How are you?"
"I'm fine."
"Hermione."
"I am."
"I talked to Theo."
"Oh," she deflates and picks at her own muffin. "So you know."
"Well I know you went home with him-"
"To talk."
"And that's it?"
She glares at him. "Yes."
"And?"
She looks at him blankly. "And?"
"What did he say?"
Hermione fiddles with the loose thread hanging from the throw cushion she's had pressed against her chest since she sat down. Out of all her friends Draco is the one who has helped her the most in dealing with the emotional trauma Tom has wrecked upon her. And yet - there is something nagging at her. What Tom told her was deeply personal and if she shares it with him, with anyone, it feels as though she is betraying him.
She shrugs and takes another drink, still not meeting his eyes.
"Hermione?"
"He didn't reject me out of spite."
"Ok."
"He wants to choose me for himself."
"What?"
"He wants to get to know me. Better." She glances his way. "Date."
Draco places his mug on the coffee table between them and leans forward, studying her. "That's it? That's his excuse?" She nods. "Bullshit."
"I don't want to talk about it," she glares.
"Fine. So what," he picks his mug back up and takes a drink, trying not to wince at the bitterness. "Have you arranged a date?"
"Not yet."
"Has he text you?"
She really doesn't want to tell him that yes, he has in fact texted.
A lot.
That she spent most of last night under her duvet with her phone on charge as they text about any and everything.
Her childhood. His. What her favourite subjects at school were. What he studied at university. How she's planning on doing an internship with a humanitarian law firm that frequently works with the UN in a few weeks. How he's just completed an internship with his father's company - a company that he'll one day be CEO of.
Any and all conversation about their designations had been avoided.
Hermione was almost afraid to bring it up and shatter the tentative trust they'd built between them.
"Once or twice," she replies instead.
Draco sighs and stands, sweeping the crumbs of his muffin off of his trousers and onto her floor. He only rolls his eyes and points at the roomba he knows she'll activate as soon as he leaves. "Don't start," he rolls the muffin wrapper up and flicks it at her. "You're the one that gave me a muffin."
"I hate you," she pouts.
Draco smirks and crosses her living room to pull her into a hug and mumbles into her hair. "You love me. Don't even try to deny it."