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Last time on LGG:
"Okay, I'm sorry. You don't have to say anything, Mya. I understand," he said rubbing his hand over her back and resting his forehead on her shoulder. Hermione sighed in what could be called relief. "I just wish you'd confide in me a little," he ended, kissing her covered shoulder. Draco leaned back and polished off his cereal in a few bites, chugging the milk left below. Hermione sat silently, head down with eyes closed, face turned away from him. It hurt her that she couldn't tell, couldn't he see that?
When he was finished, Draco stood and placed his glass in the sink, spoon poking out the top. He leaned close to Hermione's ear.
"Just leave yours in the sink. I'll do the dishes after dinner, to make up for this," he said, kissed her cheek softly, and exited the kitchen, leaving Hermione to place her head in her arms and have a good long talk with herself. Results not typical.
~*~*~*~
CHAPTER TWENTYSEVEN: Ice Cream Social
Draco didn't come down for lunch. He stayed upstairs, actions a mystery to Hermione, who sat huddled on the living room couch, close to the fire. She decided that eating without him would be depressing, a morose reminder of the second half of breakfast, and sighed as she placed a glass, as there were no bowls, of Italian dressing and defrosted chicken chunks in the refrigerator.
Hermione hadn't decided whether or not to tell him her secret. Draco wouldn't ask again, she was pretty sure of that... but right now, he wasn't asking her anything. The worst of the situation was, she had no idea WHY she was even double thinking her actions. She'd already shared most of her most personal thoughts with Draco... this shouldn't be any different. Perhaps it was the fact that no one else knew. No one. Except, of course, Froth. He was the problem after all. Hermione sighed and threw another log onto the fire, then shuffled up the staircase. Taking a breath, she raised her hand to knock on Draco's door. After a brief pause, she let it fall back down to her side. She couldn't talk to him... not yet. Instead, she sulked toward the bathroom, planning on drowning her thoughts in a bubble bath.
~
Draco lay on his back in bed, wearing everything but shoes. Something about the ceiling must have been very interesting, for he never took his eyes off it. Whatever it was, Draco wouldn't remember in ten minutes; his thoughts were somewhere else entirely. He wanted badly to go back downstairs. Not only was it incredibly boring up here... but he missed Hermione. It was odd, to him, because they were hardly ever together. Even at the manor, she spent most of her time walking around or entertaining his parents. He was lucky if he saw her for three hours at once.
Draco sighed. This was not normal. He had never in his memory had this many conjunctive thoughts dedicated to one person or thing. But Hermione... today she decided to set up permanent residence in his brain. Even when he drifted off to sleep, he was plagued with dreams. Unfortunately, they weren't all good. Every one started out wonderfully... they were together, happy and smiling somewhere pure, like Olympus or some field or river... but at least half of them would take a turn for the worst. 'You're scaring me,' was a frequent inhabitant of the dialogue. He needed someone to talk to. Where was Eglamour when you needed him? Probably screwing Atrolynn... hey, at least they'd have cute kittens.
Deciding it might be better to try and think of something else, Draco sat up, finally turning his eyes from the ceiling, and looked around the room. It was a fairly nice room, with beautiful hardwood floors and mahogany furniture. There was a near-empty bookshelf, nightstand, small writing desk, and a cabinet with drawers. Draco furrowed his eyebrows. What could possibly be in a bedroom cabinet? Towels, perhaps... no, there was already a linen closet in the bathroom. He doubted it was books; they would probably be in the bookshelf. Curious, he stood and shuffled over to it, cautiously opening the doors. A smile crossed his lips as he peered inside. A TV. Salvation.
~*~*~*~
The bathroom was quiet, and Hermione charmed the tub silent, just to keep the peace. She slipped slowly into the warm water, sighing and closing her eyes. Of course, she was thinking about Draco. Hermione found herself unable to think of anything else, after breakfast. She wasn't even entirely sure he was mad at her... but she didn't particularly want to find out. Ignorance is bliss, and if this was bliss... she didn't want to see disappointment.
Hermione didn't dare move. The silence was so relaxing, she feared one swish in the water would set off a chain reaction, causing thousands of noises to make themselves outstanding. She smiled. How paranoid did that sound? Just to defy her stupidity, Hermione slid below the water, pressing firmly on the sides of the tub to keep her head submerged. Perhaps, if she were lucky, she'd drown. Unable to breathe, Hermione had to focus her thoughts elsewhere, and they rested on the echoing pulse of her heart, magnified by the liquid. Beyond that, all she could hear where the simple aquatic sounds of underwater... currents, the drip from the faucet... gunshots?
Alarmed, she let go of the sides, coming up for air just before she passed out, and wiping the water from her face. Once her breathing steadied, which didn't take long, Hermione listened hard. Yes, gunshots. She had not heard incorrectly. Without the water, the sounds were more predominant. There was yelling, screeching tires, a woman screaming, baby crying, and... of course, gunshots.
"Stupidity my arse. I knew it wouldn't last," she mumbled to herself as she recognized the source as a TV, and not the trailer park. "Draco must have opened the cabinet. Now I'm definitely not going in there... seems he's not as bothered by this as I am," she mumbled, then washed the soap out of her hair, ready and willing to leave the bath.
Again dressed and dry, with the exception of her hair, Hermione crept out of the bathroom. She stepped quietly up to Draco's door and put her ear to the wood. Laughing. He was laughing. Yep, he must be upset. With a sigh, she again descended the stairs and moved into the kitchen, in need of a release.
~*~*~*~
Draco flipped through the channels, bored out of his mind. Nothing seemed to take his mind off anything. In fact, most things put his mind back ON Hermione, assuming she'd ever left it. A music video, a sad movie... somehow, even the Sheepdog Finals reminded him of her... it was pathetic. Then, he switched on the news. Draco's thumb stopped mid-way to the 'next channel' button. Was that...? No. It couldn't be... He couldn't help it. He burst out laughing. Draco watched the rest of the section intently, holding back laughter as he tried to listen.
"Oh, ho, ho," he said as the story was replaced by commercials. "Hermione has got to hear about this..." With that, Draco flicked off the TV and bounded down the stairs, then walked through the entry room and toward the kitchen. He stopped in his tracks as he saw her. "Damn," he whispered to himself, remembering why she wasn't with him in the first place.
Hermione was sitting at her table, armed with a spoon and slowly defacing a half-gallon of chocolate ice cream. She didn't notice Draco in the doorway to her left; just continued to direct the metal device into the opening between two tearstained cheeks. Draco swallowed and took a step into the room.
"Hey," he said softly, and Hermione stopped her spoon halfway to her mouth, but didn't otherwise look like she'd heard him. "What are you doing?" Draco asked awkwardly, knowing he should say something, no matter how obvious the answer to his question may be.
"Getting fat," Hermione whispered, tilting her head down a little more, causing a few damp tendrils to obscure her face. Draco frowned and took another step closer to her. Hermione took in a sharp, but silent breath, not looking up. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came, and he closed it again. This was somewhat delicate... Draco didn't want to mess it up again. He sighed, pulling a chair a little closer to her. Determined to remain calm, Hermione took another small bite of ice cream. Draco opened his mouth again, but Hermione cut him off.
"Can I help you with something?" she asked, finally turning her eyes up to his face, but looking back down again quickly. Draco sighed.
"Look, Mya..." he started, brushing the fallen hair back behind her ear. Hermione closed her eyes and set her jaw, unsure of what to feel. "I'm sorry."
"I know you are," she said dispassionately and Draco licked his lips.
"Are-"
"Why didn't you come back downstairs?" Hermione asked, again cutting him off, and he exhaled slowly.
"I didn't think you'd want to talk to me; if you did, why didn't you come tell me?" Hermione looked up again, this time with a slight fire in her eyes.
"I almost did, but I didn't want to interrupt whatever fun you were having... and it sounded like there was a lot to disturb." Draco looked confused for a moment, then his lips curled into a smirk. The news. She'd heard him laughing... oh, if only she knew.
"You'd have laughed too," he countered and she sighed, turning away, unable to even express how insensitive that sounded. "I was watching the news... and you'll never guess who I saw..." Hermione looked up at him again, this time curious. "I'll give you two guesses, and it isn't Potter and Weasley."
"What were Froth and Lance doing on the news? Who did they rob this time?" Draco smiled.
"Evidently, they broke into the library, which is closed on the weekend. Mr. McNair was on as well, but he was being restrained by the police as he tried to beat the shit out of them." Hermione laughed, picturing the scene. "See! I told you you'd laugh. Had you seen it, I'm sure you would have been in roughly the same state I was," he said and Hermione smiled crookedly, again down casting her eyes. Draco grinned and lifted her chin with his fingertips, causing Hermione to drop her smile and look at him. Still grinning, he leaned close and connected their lips.
Hermione sighed into the kiss, and gave it her all. It was another of those amazing kisses... like the one in the limo. Either he'd been practicing somewhere else, or he'd been holding back before, because Draco's kisses continuously got better and better. When they pulled away, Draco licked his lips.
"Hm... that's pretty good. Care if I join you?" he asked, pointing toward the partially eaten box of ice cream. Hermione smiled and plucked a spoon out of the dish drain behind her, holding it out to him. Draco took it from her slowly. "Didn't I say I'd do the dishes?"
"You did, but I thought you were mad at me... and when you didn't come back, I figured I might as well," she said, digging again into the ice cream. Draco decided not to further comment on the dishes.
"Why are you eating out of the carton, anyway?" Hermione laughed.
"You just stuck your tongue down my throat... does this disgust you?" she asked indicating the carton, and Draco laughed.
"No, just curious," he said, taking a big spoonful to prove he was in now way turned off to the prospect of eating something her lips had practically touched. Hermione smiled and rubbed some of the drying moisture from her cheeks.
"No bowls," she said and Draco nodded, assisting her with a gentle thumb.
"Right; no bowls."
~*~*~*~
"Where are we going?" Draco asked, following Hermione down a deserted cement sidewalk. It was late afternoon, almost dusk, but she insisted on leaving.
"I told you; to see Froth and Lance."
"Right, but we passed their house about ten minutes ago," Draco countered, confused. Hermione shook her head.
"You're the one who saw them on the news. We're going to the courthouse; they have their own private cell in the basement... if they broke into the library, I'd say they wouldn't be out again until morning. McNair wouldn't settle for anything less," she explained and Draco nodded in understanding.
"And why are we going to see them?"
"They know I'm here, if I don't they'll get... agitated," Hermione said, smiling crookedly, and Draco raised an eyebrow.
"How do they know you're here?" he asked, a tad suspicious.
"They broke into the library, Drakey. The only time they've ever set FOOT in the library is if they really want to see me. I don't know how they found out I was here, but that's the only reason I can think of that they would bother. This way," she instructed, pulling him down another street, then toward the great stone steps of the Oriskany Hills Courthouse.
"Are you sure I should be coming, Mya? I don't rightly know these people," Draco asked as they made it into the hall, and Hermione turned back around, frowning slightly.
"Well, you don't have to, but..." Draco titled his head, interested in the slight nervousness she was desperately trying to hide. To anyone else, she would seem calm, cool, and collected... but Draco had learned how to see past that, to what really went on in her mind. "Please?" she asked, looking up with a face to match her pleading tone. Draco kissed her softly.
"Of course I will," he agreed and she smiled widely, eyes with a tad more life. "Lead the way." Hermione grabbed his hand and rushed down the hall to a cement staircase, a sign above reading 'Quarantine 1-4'. Once at the bottom of the stairs, she gave Draco's hand a squeeze, and let go, turning around to place a soft kiss on his lips.
"Come on," she whispered and started down a dark, drippy hallway. Draco followed closely, suddenly fearful of her well-being. It didn't seem too safe down here... Hermione seemed to know where she was going; she maneuvered through the few halls expertly, until she came to a wooden door, guarded by a sleepy looking old man. She turned to wait for Draco, only to find that he were about three inches behind her. "Hello, Officer Walberg."
"Huh?" shouted the man in a deep-throated peep. "Oh, it's you, Miss Hermione. Haven't seen you to visit in a good long time. You know the hours don't start til' five."
"It's five thirty, sir," she said and he looked surprised, glancing at his watch. "I've got business, Mr. Walberg," she said politely, then pointed toward the door. "With the inmates." Walberg lifted a snowy eyebrow, but didn't question her.
"Alright miss. My shift is over in about five minutes; the next guard might not be here when you come out." Hermione smiled.
"That won't be a problem, I don't plan on staying long, and I doubt I'll need assistance," she said, mentally noting that Draco placed a hand lightly on the small of her back.
"Right," Walberg agreed, opening the door. Hermione nodded her thank you and stepped inside, Draco following.
"Well, well, well... fancy meeting you here, boys," she said, stopping in front of a wall, it seemed, and placing her hands on her hips. As Draco moved closer, however, he could see that it was, in fact, a barred cell, housing two teenage boys.
"Fuck you, Granger," said the taller of the two, without looking up. The boys each occupied one of the two cots chained to the wall; the taller was adding to an already large mural on his side of the room, using a thick black crayon. On the other side of the room, in the other bed, the shorter boy faced the cement wall, bouncing a worn tennis ball off it repeatedly. When his brother spoke, he froze, not catching his toy.
"Hermione?" he asked, turning around, and Hermione lifted an eyebrow.
"Wow, Froth... you haven't called me that in years," she said, sounding as if she really were surprised. Froth spun and lifted himself from his cot, coming toward the barred wall that separated him from Hermione.
"Hermione..." he said again, this time in whisper. "What are you doing here?" She smiled and shrugged, noting to herself that Froth seemed not to have noticed Draco.
"I heard you boys got busted... again, and I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I'd drop by. Care to explain your predicament? I'm a tad curious," she said, crossing her arms and cocking a hip. Froth licked his lips and opened his mouth to explain, but Lance beat him to the punch, jumping up from his cot and slamming into the bars. Hermione gasped slightly and took a step back.
"It's all your damn fault, Granger. McNair told us you were in town... told us to stay away... so what do we do?" He slapped his brother upside the head, causing his forehead to slam against the bars.
"Ah, arse," Froth mumbled.
"This genius here decides we should go FIND you. Says you'll be in the LIBRARY... but she wasn't there, was she, dumb ass?" he asked his brother harshly, then spun and went back toward his cot. Hermione took a step closer to Froth once Lance was farther away.
"Froth, why the hell did you want to find me in the first place?" she asked curiously, and he swallowed.
"I wanted... to talk. About... well, the..."
"We don't need to talk about that, Froth. I told you when it happened that I didn't want to, and I haven't changed my mind. Off the subject, if you wanted to see me, why didn't you just come to my house... you know, the place where I live?" He frowned, looking shot down.
"I guess I wasn't thinking. You're never at your house in the summer... I figured you wouldn't be there now, either," he explained, lifting a hand through the bars to touch her face.
Draco, who had been watching silently from a few feet away, hidden in shadow, took a step forward, glaring at Froth as he stood behind her. Hermione smiled; she'd almost forgotten he was there... but oh was she glad he was. Froth looked up at Draco with wide eyes.
"Mione..." Hermione cringed.
"I've told you thousands of times not to call me that, Froth. This is my boyfriend; Draco," Hermione said, and watched as Froth's eyes flicked back to her, full of hurt and shards of a broken heart. Draco glared, but Hermione was a little uneasy. She didn't particularly like Froth, but she didn't think he'd liked her that much... he seemed devastated.
"I told you, man. I told you she was too good to be true," Lance mumbled from his regained position on his cot. Froth shot a look over his shoulder, then turned back to Hermione, who was trembling slightly. There was just something about this scene that bothered her; something familiar. She felt Draco place his hand silently on her shoulder and relaxed slightly.
"I-I, er, we have to go. Now," Hermione said and Draco squeezed her shoulder a bit, then let her turn toward the door.
"Wait, Hermione..." Froth called, and she stopped, but didn't look at him. "I'm sorry. About everything... what I did, and what I... didn't do. You know I love you, right?" She cringed, not even dignifying him with a response, and started toward the door again, Draco following even closer than he had been before. "Hermione, no!"
"Let her go, douche bag. She's shit; she's not worth it," Lance said, as if he'd just been proven right, and Froth turned to him fiercely.
"Don't you EVER say ANYTHING like that EVER again," he growled, teeth bared. Lance sighed.
"Face it Froth. She was a good fuck, yeah... but that's all she was."
"Ah!" called the younger jailbird, lunging toward his brother. Hermione turned her head to see Froth beating the living hell out of Lance, but it changed nothing in her mind. Stepping out of Draco's hand and taking it in her own, she exited the door, passing an empty guard post, then climbed back up the stairs and into the hall, he following closely.
"Hermione... Hermione, wait," Draco said after a minute or so of fierce walking and pulled her hand just hard enough to send her spinning back into his chest. She jumped back as if he were aflame.
"Draco, please, don't touch me... if you do, I'll cry... I don't want to cry right now," she pleaded, tucking her hands insecurely into her elbows. Hermione was trying hard not to shed tears, and it was obvious. "What the hell is wrong with me, I never used to be like this..." she said softly, squinting her eyes shut. Draco couldn't help himself; he wanted to comfort her.
"It's okay to cry, Mya," he said, taking a step forward and pulling her back into his chest. Hermione shook her head, biting her lip, but didn't pull back. She remained fairly rigid.
"No, not always. I've already shed him a thousand tears... he doesn't deserve any more," she whispered, but it was followed by a slight gasp as the emotions over took her. She held tight to Draco's thin shirt, silently sobbing into him. With a frown, Draco kissed her head softly. He didn't like that someone could affect her like this... she didn't deserve it.
"It's okay, Mya... I-" he started, then stopped. He'd almost let something slip that could have possibly made the situation worse. Or maybe not... "Hermione," he said and she sniffed slightly, tears still streaming. "Remember when I told you that I didn't love you?" Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, unable to choke back an audible sob as she nodded. Draco leaned close to her ear. "I lied."
~
It took a moment for reality to sink in, but when it did, Hermione looked up, wide-eyed.
"What?" she asked in disbelief, staring at the smiling face of her blonde boyfriend. Draco nodded slowly. "Really? You're not just saying that to make me feel better?" He shook his head.
"I would never do that," Draco assured, holding her close and placing the side of his chin against her temple. After a moment, he bent his lips downward. "I love you," he admitted, finally, whispering in her ear, and he felt Hermione tense briefly before becoming even more relaxed. She pulled back.
"Tell me," she said. "Look me in the eye and tell me that you love me," she said, and he smiled, placing a hand to her face and wiping a tear from her cheek.
"I. Love. You." Draco said, spacing his words like separate sentences, and Hermione's lip began to quiver again. She tightened her arms around him and buried her head in his chest.
"I love you too... I love you too," she sobbed, squeezing him as close as she could manage and sobbing into his chest. Draco smiled this time. She was happily crying, which was much better than miserably crying. He buried a hand in her hair and held her head like a precious stone to his chest, kissing her crown of ebony hair softly.
He did it. Finally. All on his own, without anyone's help or encouragement. Who needs Eglamour?
~*~*~*~
A/N Sorry, this was a little shorter, but it seemed like a good place to leave off, don't you think? I could stop the fic right now if I didn't have all that revenge to play out, still. And don't worry, you'll learn more about what Froth is sorry for; as most of you should have guessed, it's more than just dumping her. Hey, does Lance remind you of Osric? Lol.
PRF: The reviews on ff.net are messed up and I can't read them; sorry guys...
Last time on LGG:
"Okay, I'm sorry. You don't have to say anything, Mya. I understand," he said rubbing his hand over her back and resting his forehead on her shoulder. Hermione sighed in what could be called relief. "I just wish you'd confide in me a little," he ended, kissing her covered shoulder. Draco leaned back and polished off his cereal in a few bites, chugging the milk left below. Hermione sat silently, head down with eyes closed, face turned away from him. It hurt her that she couldn't tell, couldn't he see that?
When he was finished, Draco stood and placed his glass in the sink, spoon poking out the top. He leaned close to Hermione's ear.
"Just leave yours in the sink. I'll do the dishes after dinner, to make up for this," he said, kissed her cheek softly, and exited the kitchen, leaving Hermione to place her head in her arms and have a good long talk with herself. Results not typical.
~*~*~*~
CHAPTER TWENTYSEVEN: Ice Cream Social
Draco didn't come down for lunch. He stayed upstairs, actions a mystery to Hermione, who sat huddled on the living room couch, close to the fire. She decided that eating without him would be depressing, a morose reminder of the second half of breakfast, and sighed as she placed a glass, as there were no bowls, of Italian dressing and defrosted chicken chunks in the refrigerator.
Hermione hadn't decided whether or not to tell him her secret. Draco wouldn't ask again, she was pretty sure of that... but right now, he wasn't asking her anything. The worst of the situation was, she had no idea WHY she was even double thinking her actions. She'd already shared most of her most personal thoughts with Draco... this shouldn't be any different. Perhaps it was the fact that no one else knew. No one. Except, of course, Froth. He was the problem after all. Hermione sighed and threw another log onto the fire, then shuffled up the staircase. Taking a breath, she raised her hand to knock on Draco's door. After a brief pause, she let it fall back down to her side. She couldn't talk to him... not yet. Instead, she sulked toward the bathroom, planning on drowning her thoughts in a bubble bath.
~
Draco lay on his back in bed, wearing everything but shoes. Something about the ceiling must have been very interesting, for he never took his eyes off it. Whatever it was, Draco wouldn't remember in ten minutes; his thoughts were somewhere else entirely. He wanted badly to go back downstairs. Not only was it incredibly boring up here... but he missed Hermione. It was odd, to him, because they were hardly ever together. Even at the manor, she spent most of her time walking around or entertaining his parents. He was lucky if he saw her for three hours at once.
Draco sighed. This was not normal. He had never in his memory had this many conjunctive thoughts dedicated to one person or thing. But Hermione... today she decided to set up permanent residence in his brain. Even when he drifted off to sleep, he was plagued with dreams. Unfortunately, they weren't all good. Every one started out wonderfully... they were together, happy and smiling somewhere pure, like Olympus or some field or river... but at least half of them would take a turn for the worst. 'You're scaring me,' was a frequent inhabitant of the dialogue. He needed someone to talk to. Where was Eglamour when you needed him? Probably screwing Atrolynn... hey, at least they'd have cute kittens.
Deciding it might be better to try and think of something else, Draco sat up, finally turning his eyes from the ceiling, and looked around the room. It was a fairly nice room, with beautiful hardwood floors and mahogany furniture. There was a near-empty bookshelf, nightstand, small writing desk, and a cabinet with drawers. Draco furrowed his eyebrows. What could possibly be in a bedroom cabinet? Towels, perhaps... no, there was already a linen closet in the bathroom. He doubted it was books; they would probably be in the bookshelf. Curious, he stood and shuffled over to it, cautiously opening the doors. A smile crossed his lips as he peered inside. A TV. Salvation.
~*~*~*~
The bathroom was quiet, and Hermione charmed the tub silent, just to keep the peace. She slipped slowly into the warm water, sighing and closing her eyes. Of course, she was thinking about Draco. Hermione found herself unable to think of anything else, after breakfast. She wasn't even entirely sure he was mad at her... but she didn't particularly want to find out. Ignorance is bliss, and if this was bliss... she didn't want to see disappointment.
Hermione didn't dare move. The silence was so relaxing, she feared one swish in the water would set off a chain reaction, causing thousands of noises to make themselves outstanding. She smiled. How paranoid did that sound? Just to defy her stupidity, Hermione slid below the water, pressing firmly on the sides of the tub to keep her head submerged. Perhaps, if she were lucky, she'd drown. Unable to breathe, Hermione had to focus her thoughts elsewhere, and they rested on the echoing pulse of her heart, magnified by the liquid. Beyond that, all she could hear where the simple aquatic sounds of underwater... currents, the drip from the faucet... gunshots?
Alarmed, she let go of the sides, coming up for air just before she passed out, and wiping the water from her face. Once her breathing steadied, which didn't take long, Hermione listened hard. Yes, gunshots. She had not heard incorrectly. Without the water, the sounds were more predominant. There was yelling, screeching tires, a woman screaming, baby crying, and... of course, gunshots.
"Stupidity my arse. I knew it wouldn't last," she mumbled to herself as she recognized the source as a TV, and not the trailer park. "Draco must have opened the cabinet. Now I'm definitely not going in there... seems he's not as bothered by this as I am," she mumbled, then washed the soap out of her hair, ready and willing to leave the bath.
Again dressed and dry, with the exception of her hair, Hermione crept out of the bathroom. She stepped quietly up to Draco's door and put her ear to the wood. Laughing. He was laughing. Yep, he must be upset. With a sigh, she again descended the stairs and moved into the kitchen, in need of a release.
~*~*~*~
Draco flipped through the channels, bored out of his mind. Nothing seemed to take his mind off anything. In fact, most things put his mind back ON Hermione, assuming she'd ever left it. A music video, a sad movie... somehow, even the Sheepdog Finals reminded him of her... it was pathetic. Then, he switched on the news. Draco's thumb stopped mid-way to the 'next channel' button. Was that...? No. It couldn't be... He couldn't help it. He burst out laughing. Draco watched the rest of the section intently, holding back laughter as he tried to listen.
"Oh, ho, ho," he said as the story was replaced by commercials. "Hermione has got to hear about this..." With that, Draco flicked off the TV and bounded down the stairs, then walked through the entry room and toward the kitchen. He stopped in his tracks as he saw her. "Damn," he whispered to himself, remembering why she wasn't with him in the first place.
Hermione was sitting at her table, armed with a spoon and slowly defacing a half-gallon of chocolate ice cream. She didn't notice Draco in the doorway to her left; just continued to direct the metal device into the opening between two tearstained cheeks. Draco swallowed and took a step into the room.
"Hey," he said softly, and Hermione stopped her spoon halfway to her mouth, but didn't otherwise look like she'd heard him. "What are you doing?" Draco asked awkwardly, knowing he should say something, no matter how obvious the answer to his question may be.
"Getting fat," Hermione whispered, tilting her head down a little more, causing a few damp tendrils to obscure her face. Draco frowned and took another step closer to her. Hermione took in a sharp, but silent breath, not looking up. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came, and he closed it again. This was somewhat delicate... Draco didn't want to mess it up again. He sighed, pulling a chair a little closer to her. Determined to remain calm, Hermione took another small bite of ice cream. Draco opened his mouth again, but Hermione cut him off.
"Can I help you with something?" she asked, finally turning her eyes up to his face, but looking back down again quickly. Draco sighed.
"Look, Mya..." he started, brushing the fallen hair back behind her ear. Hermione closed her eyes and set her jaw, unsure of what to feel. "I'm sorry."
"I know you are," she said dispassionately and Draco licked his lips.
"Are-"
"Why didn't you come back downstairs?" Hermione asked, again cutting him off, and he exhaled slowly.
"I didn't think you'd want to talk to me; if you did, why didn't you come tell me?" Hermione looked up again, this time with a slight fire in her eyes.
"I almost did, but I didn't want to interrupt whatever fun you were having... and it sounded like there was a lot to disturb." Draco looked confused for a moment, then his lips curled into a smirk. The news. She'd heard him laughing... oh, if only she knew.
"You'd have laughed too," he countered and she sighed, turning away, unable to even express how insensitive that sounded. "I was watching the news... and you'll never guess who I saw..." Hermione looked up at him again, this time curious. "I'll give you two guesses, and it isn't Potter and Weasley."
"What were Froth and Lance doing on the news? Who did they rob this time?" Draco smiled.
"Evidently, they broke into the library, which is closed on the weekend. Mr. McNair was on as well, but he was being restrained by the police as he tried to beat the shit out of them." Hermione laughed, picturing the scene. "See! I told you you'd laugh. Had you seen it, I'm sure you would have been in roughly the same state I was," he said and Hermione smiled crookedly, again down casting her eyes. Draco grinned and lifted her chin with his fingertips, causing Hermione to drop her smile and look at him. Still grinning, he leaned close and connected their lips.
Hermione sighed into the kiss, and gave it her all. It was another of those amazing kisses... like the one in the limo. Either he'd been practicing somewhere else, or he'd been holding back before, because Draco's kisses continuously got better and better. When they pulled away, Draco licked his lips.
"Hm... that's pretty good. Care if I join you?" he asked, pointing toward the partially eaten box of ice cream. Hermione smiled and plucked a spoon out of the dish drain behind her, holding it out to him. Draco took it from her slowly. "Didn't I say I'd do the dishes?"
"You did, but I thought you were mad at me... and when you didn't come back, I figured I might as well," she said, digging again into the ice cream. Draco decided not to further comment on the dishes.
"Why are you eating out of the carton, anyway?" Hermione laughed.
"You just stuck your tongue down my throat... does this disgust you?" she asked indicating the carton, and Draco laughed.
"No, just curious," he said, taking a big spoonful to prove he was in now way turned off to the prospect of eating something her lips had practically touched. Hermione smiled and rubbed some of the drying moisture from her cheeks.
"No bowls," she said and Draco nodded, assisting her with a gentle thumb.
"Right; no bowls."
~*~*~*~
"Where are we going?" Draco asked, following Hermione down a deserted cement sidewalk. It was late afternoon, almost dusk, but she insisted on leaving.
"I told you; to see Froth and Lance."
"Right, but we passed their house about ten minutes ago," Draco countered, confused. Hermione shook her head.
"You're the one who saw them on the news. We're going to the courthouse; they have their own private cell in the basement... if they broke into the library, I'd say they wouldn't be out again until morning. McNair wouldn't settle for anything less," she explained and Draco nodded in understanding.
"And why are we going to see them?"
"They know I'm here, if I don't they'll get... agitated," Hermione said, smiling crookedly, and Draco raised an eyebrow.
"How do they know you're here?" he asked, a tad suspicious.
"They broke into the library, Drakey. The only time they've ever set FOOT in the library is if they really want to see me. I don't know how they found out I was here, but that's the only reason I can think of that they would bother. This way," she instructed, pulling him down another street, then toward the great stone steps of the Oriskany Hills Courthouse.
"Are you sure I should be coming, Mya? I don't rightly know these people," Draco asked as they made it into the hall, and Hermione turned back around, frowning slightly.
"Well, you don't have to, but..." Draco titled his head, interested in the slight nervousness she was desperately trying to hide. To anyone else, she would seem calm, cool, and collected... but Draco had learned how to see past that, to what really went on in her mind. "Please?" she asked, looking up with a face to match her pleading tone. Draco kissed her softly.
"Of course I will," he agreed and she smiled widely, eyes with a tad more life. "Lead the way." Hermione grabbed his hand and rushed down the hall to a cement staircase, a sign above reading 'Quarantine 1-4'. Once at the bottom of the stairs, she gave Draco's hand a squeeze, and let go, turning around to place a soft kiss on his lips.
"Come on," she whispered and started down a dark, drippy hallway. Draco followed closely, suddenly fearful of her well-being. It didn't seem too safe down here... Hermione seemed to know where she was going; she maneuvered through the few halls expertly, until she came to a wooden door, guarded by a sleepy looking old man. She turned to wait for Draco, only to find that he were about three inches behind her. "Hello, Officer Walberg."
"Huh?" shouted the man in a deep-throated peep. "Oh, it's you, Miss Hermione. Haven't seen you to visit in a good long time. You know the hours don't start til' five."
"It's five thirty, sir," she said and he looked surprised, glancing at his watch. "I've got business, Mr. Walberg," she said politely, then pointed toward the door. "With the inmates." Walberg lifted a snowy eyebrow, but didn't question her.
"Alright miss. My shift is over in about five minutes; the next guard might not be here when you come out." Hermione smiled.
"That won't be a problem, I don't plan on staying long, and I doubt I'll need assistance," she said, mentally noting that Draco placed a hand lightly on the small of her back.
"Right," Walberg agreed, opening the door. Hermione nodded her thank you and stepped inside, Draco following.
"Well, well, well... fancy meeting you here, boys," she said, stopping in front of a wall, it seemed, and placing her hands on her hips. As Draco moved closer, however, he could see that it was, in fact, a barred cell, housing two teenage boys.
"Fuck you, Granger," said the taller of the two, without looking up. The boys each occupied one of the two cots chained to the wall; the taller was adding to an already large mural on his side of the room, using a thick black crayon. On the other side of the room, in the other bed, the shorter boy faced the cement wall, bouncing a worn tennis ball off it repeatedly. When his brother spoke, he froze, not catching his toy.
"Hermione?" he asked, turning around, and Hermione lifted an eyebrow.
"Wow, Froth... you haven't called me that in years," she said, sounding as if she really were surprised. Froth spun and lifted himself from his cot, coming toward the barred wall that separated him from Hermione.
"Hermione..." he said again, this time in whisper. "What are you doing here?" She smiled and shrugged, noting to herself that Froth seemed not to have noticed Draco.
"I heard you boys got busted... again, and I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I'd drop by. Care to explain your predicament? I'm a tad curious," she said, crossing her arms and cocking a hip. Froth licked his lips and opened his mouth to explain, but Lance beat him to the punch, jumping up from his cot and slamming into the bars. Hermione gasped slightly and took a step back.
"It's all your damn fault, Granger. McNair told us you were in town... told us to stay away... so what do we do?" He slapped his brother upside the head, causing his forehead to slam against the bars.
"Ah, arse," Froth mumbled.
"This genius here decides we should go FIND you. Says you'll be in the LIBRARY... but she wasn't there, was she, dumb ass?" he asked his brother harshly, then spun and went back toward his cot. Hermione took a step closer to Froth once Lance was farther away.
"Froth, why the hell did you want to find me in the first place?" she asked curiously, and he swallowed.
"I wanted... to talk. About... well, the..."
"We don't need to talk about that, Froth. I told you when it happened that I didn't want to, and I haven't changed my mind. Off the subject, if you wanted to see me, why didn't you just come to my house... you know, the place where I live?" He frowned, looking shot down.
"I guess I wasn't thinking. You're never at your house in the summer... I figured you wouldn't be there now, either," he explained, lifting a hand through the bars to touch her face.
Draco, who had been watching silently from a few feet away, hidden in shadow, took a step forward, glaring at Froth as he stood behind her. Hermione smiled; she'd almost forgotten he was there... but oh was she glad he was. Froth looked up at Draco with wide eyes.
"Mione..." Hermione cringed.
"I've told you thousands of times not to call me that, Froth. This is my boyfriend; Draco," Hermione said, and watched as Froth's eyes flicked back to her, full of hurt and shards of a broken heart. Draco glared, but Hermione was a little uneasy. She didn't particularly like Froth, but she didn't think he'd liked her that much... he seemed devastated.
"I told you, man. I told you she was too good to be true," Lance mumbled from his regained position on his cot. Froth shot a look over his shoulder, then turned back to Hermione, who was trembling slightly. There was just something about this scene that bothered her; something familiar. She felt Draco place his hand silently on her shoulder and relaxed slightly.
"I-I, er, we have to go. Now," Hermione said and Draco squeezed her shoulder a bit, then let her turn toward the door.
"Wait, Hermione..." Froth called, and she stopped, but didn't look at him. "I'm sorry. About everything... what I did, and what I... didn't do. You know I love you, right?" She cringed, not even dignifying him with a response, and started toward the door again, Draco following even closer than he had been before. "Hermione, no!"
"Let her go, douche bag. She's shit; she's not worth it," Lance said, as if he'd just been proven right, and Froth turned to him fiercely.
"Don't you EVER say ANYTHING like that EVER again," he growled, teeth bared. Lance sighed.
"Face it Froth. She was a good fuck, yeah... but that's all she was."
"Ah!" called the younger jailbird, lunging toward his brother. Hermione turned her head to see Froth beating the living hell out of Lance, but it changed nothing in her mind. Stepping out of Draco's hand and taking it in her own, she exited the door, passing an empty guard post, then climbed back up the stairs and into the hall, he following closely.
"Hermione... Hermione, wait," Draco said after a minute or so of fierce walking and pulled her hand just hard enough to send her spinning back into his chest. She jumped back as if he were aflame.
"Draco, please, don't touch me... if you do, I'll cry... I don't want to cry right now," she pleaded, tucking her hands insecurely into her elbows. Hermione was trying hard not to shed tears, and it was obvious. "What the hell is wrong with me, I never used to be like this..." she said softly, squinting her eyes shut. Draco couldn't help himself; he wanted to comfort her.
"It's okay to cry, Mya," he said, taking a step forward and pulling her back into his chest. Hermione shook her head, biting her lip, but didn't pull back. She remained fairly rigid.
"No, not always. I've already shed him a thousand tears... he doesn't deserve any more," she whispered, but it was followed by a slight gasp as the emotions over took her. She held tight to Draco's thin shirt, silently sobbing into him. With a frown, Draco kissed her head softly. He didn't like that someone could affect her like this... she didn't deserve it.
"It's okay, Mya... I-" he started, then stopped. He'd almost let something slip that could have possibly made the situation worse. Or maybe not... "Hermione," he said and she sniffed slightly, tears still streaming. "Remember when I told you that I didn't love you?" Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, unable to choke back an audible sob as she nodded. Draco leaned close to her ear. "I lied."
~
It took a moment for reality to sink in, but when it did, Hermione looked up, wide-eyed.
"What?" she asked in disbelief, staring at the smiling face of her blonde boyfriend. Draco nodded slowly. "Really? You're not just saying that to make me feel better?" He shook his head.
"I would never do that," Draco assured, holding her close and placing the side of his chin against her temple. After a moment, he bent his lips downward. "I love you," he admitted, finally, whispering in her ear, and he felt Hermione tense briefly before becoming even more relaxed. She pulled back.
"Tell me," she said. "Look me in the eye and tell me that you love me," she said, and he smiled, placing a hand to her face and wiping a tear from her cheek.
"I. Love. You." Draco said, spacing his words like separate sentences, and Hermione's lip began to quiver again. She tightened her arms around him and buried her head in his chest.
"I love you too... I love you too," she sobbed, squeezing him as close as she could manage and sobbing into his chest. Draco smiled this time. She was happily crying, which was much better than miserably crying. He buried a hand in her hair and held her head like a precious stone to his chest, kissing her crown of ebony hair softly.
He did it. Finally. All on his own, without anyone's help or encouragement. Who needs Eglamour?
~*~*~*~
A/N Sorry, this was a little shorter, but it seemed like a good place to leave off, don't you think? I could stop the fic right now if I didn't have all that revenge to play out, still. And don't worry, you'll learn more about what Froth is sorry for; as most of you should have guessed, it's more than just dumping her. Hey, does Lance remind you of Osric? Lol.
PRF: The reviews on ff.net are messed up and I can't read them; sorry guys...