You and Me

"ARE YOU COMPLETEY MENTAL?"

"Please, dear, you'll wake the neighbors."

"STOP CALLING ME THAT OR I SWEAR, I WILL KILL YOU!"

"Okay, okay, Hermione, just calm down."

"CALM DOWN? CALM DOWN?"

This was not looking very good for Draco, not in the least. Hermione stood in front of him when they got back to her (or, their, technically) flat, and she was, very simply put, infuriated. Her face was red and her fists were clenched, one holding her wand, which kind of made him want to cower in the corner, but of course he never would - he was a Malfoy, after all. Yes, he saw the irony in that.

Draco didn't see what the big fuss was about, really. So they had to hold hands and all that rubbish in public - so what? It'd probably keep the Death Eaters away even more, the way he saw it. If he was going to be seen in public, he might as well put on a show.

When he tried to explain this to Hermione, however, she hadn't taken it very well.

"Okay, I'm sorry. We'll just tell them we broke up, and - "

"Harry and Ron will never belive that," Hermione said breathlessly, pacing with one hand on her forehead and one on her hip. "We'll have to go along with it, and look happy about it! Oh, dear Merlin, I even told them you were living here! And - oh, Merlin, I can't take this - "

"Okay, okay, let's just - come over here," Draco said, trying not to sound completely freaked out at her behavior. He gently took her elbow and lead her over to the couch, making a frightened face behind her back. "It'll be okay - we don't have to do anything you don't want to do - "

"We're not about to have sex, Draco, just - don't talk to me!" she exclaimed hastily, waving him away.

"Right." he muttered and backed up, trying not to sound amused that Hermione Granger had just said 'sex'.

"No, come here," she exclaimed again, waving him back over, "We need to come up with a background story now."

"Right." he muttered again, coming back over to sit beside her.

"So," she breathed, seeming to try and compose herself. "how did we meet then?"

"Er - it won't be that hard, I guess. I mean, we could just have the story we do now, except it happened longer ago, and, well, with more romance. We met how we really did meet, I suppose, and it turned out I conveniently had the flat above you. We formed a friendship, then a relationship, and all that, and here we are."

She frowned. "Okay. Well. What do we do now?"

"Well, the night's still young. How about we go out to dinner - make a romantic public appearance?"

"By the way you screamed your love for me back there, I doubt we need to make another appearance."

"Well, I'm hungry, and you look in no shape to cook. How 'bout it then?" he asked, standing.

She eyed him warily.

He rolled his eyes. "C'mon, don't you trust me?"

"No, not at all."

"Fantastic. Let's go."

XXX

"Hm. I've never heard of this place." Hermione noted, frowning, "Doesn't Le Poisson mean 'fish' in English? Why would you ever name a restaurant 'fish'?"

"Don't ask me, Hermione, I didn't name it," Draco said, tugging her along by the hand, "Come on, stop staring at the sign."

"But that fish looks so pretty, how it's all lit up like that - "

"Hermione."

"Sorry, coming."

They walked into the grand restaurant, which was on a street in Diagon Alley she'd never been down before, and the host with a straight black moustache and dull eyes looked at them. He immediately perked up when he saw Draco.

"Oh, Mr. Malfoy, we have your table ready, sir."

"Thank you."

He pulled out two menus and weaved through the candle lit tables toward the back, and Hermione leaned over to Draco.

"How - did you already make reservations or something?" she asked.

"No, I still come here very often, though." he replied.

"In between the times you're getting attacked." she added, smirking.

"Just stayin' classy, Granger." he joked, grinning.

The host pulled out Hermione's chair and she sat in it, looking around as she did so. The place screamed expensive, with it's stark white table tops, lit candles, and golden architecture - just the kind of place Draco would like to go.

Ah, there they were. The photogrpaher who had surely followed them there. Those people had nothing better to do with their lives - they were paid for stalking, and Hermione for one was very irritated.

"We have company." she murmured, scanning her menu.

"Yes, I see him," he replied, scanning his menu as well, "Give me your hand."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"I will not give him what he wants. I'm rebelling."

"You can't just not show affection to your boyfriend."

She tried to refrain from glaring at him and took his hand over the table. "Fine. But I'm not happy about this."

"I'm aware."

"And I'm especially mad at you for getting us into it."

"You've made that crystal clear."

"Good."

"May I get you some drinks?" said a waitress who just walked up.

After they ordered their drinks, Draco rolled his eyes at Hermione, who was subtly glaring in the general direction of the photographer.

"C'mon, Hermione, don't let the night revolve around him. What happened to rebelling?" he asked.

She sighed. "You're right."

"Let's see . . . how about you tell me something about you that no one else knows. Not even Wonder Boy or Weasel." Draco challenged, raising his eyebrows.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "And why would I ever trust you with such a thing?"

He shrugged. "You find out why. It's your reasoning."

She studied him for a minute, before finally saying, against her better judgement, "I've always loved to sing."

His eyebrows shot up. "Sing?" he repeated.

"Yes."

"You sing?"

"Yes."

He leaned back in his chair. "Huh. Guess I never pegged you as the singing type."

"Yes, well . . . "

Luckily, it was then that the drinks came and Hermione gratefully sipped her wine. They ordered their food, too - Draco, the steak and Hermione, the pasta.

"What about you?" she asked, setting her drink down.

He studied her thoughtfully. "My favorite subject's Defense Against the Dark Arts."

She wasn't sure if it would be acceptable to laugh at the irony in this, so she tried her best not to.

He rolled his eyes. "Laugh all you want - just know you're a horrible person."

"I'm sorry," she laughed, "But don't you see the irony in that?"

He sighed. "Yeah, I do." he muttered.

She gave him a reassuring look and they sipped their wine.

Then, Hermione almost spewed it out.

There was Ron, across the room, getting seated with his beautiful girlfriend. She set her wine glass down hastily and gripped the table, trying to get herself under control.

Wendy. That was her name. She had the perfect body - skinny with curves in all the right places, and sleek blonde hair with ice blue eyes. That's what all men wanted, right? She was one who Ron had cheated on her with, three months ago - after all that they'd been through together, after he'd convinced her fully that he cared for her. It didn't make a difference.

"Er, Hermione? Does your wine taste okay? Do you want another?" Draco asked, sounding worried - she wasn't looking at him. She couldn't take her eyes off them now, smiling, laughing, holding hands over the table.

She stood abruptly. She couldn't sit anymore - she just coudn't stay in the restaurant anymore. It was so stuffy, she felt like she'd explode. Her breathing was becoming ragged and now Draco really looked worried. He stood, too, grabbing her shoulders to keep her steady.

"Hermione, what's wrong? What is it?" he asked, panicked.

She looked up at the happy couple again, and it all seemed to go in slow motion after that - Ron glancing at her, then doing a double take in shock. Her looking back to Draco, and him looking down at her with his worried blue-gray eyes. Her doing the first thing that came to mind - putting her hands gently on the side of his face, leaning forward, and pressing her lips softly to his. Her deepening the kiss when he didn't respond quickly enough. Him finally sliding his hands around her waist, pulling her extremely close, and her running her hands through his hair.

Hermione wasn't aware of how long they stayed like this, because, frankly, she wasn't in quite the right state of mind, and also quite frankly, she was rather enjoying herself.

Then it all came crashing down.

She detached herself from Draco's tight grip with a gasp, touching her hand to her lips. She was aware the photographer was taking pictures now and she was very aware Ron was gaping at them, so she forced a breathless smile and grabbed her bag.

"Draco, I've got to go." she hissed in his ear.

"What . . . ?" he murmured in a daze.

She shoved his shoulder in the lovely couples' direction so he could see what she saw, not really caring if it was obvious, and then he 'ohh-ed' in recognition.

He put a hand on her lower back and murmured in her ear, "I'll meet you back at the flat after I've sorted everything out here. You alright?"

She swallowed and looked down at her feet. "No." she whispered, then stepped away from his touch, Apparating back to their flat. She collapsed onto the couch.

That was the first time she'd seen Ron with Wendy publicly, ever since she'd found them snogging on their couch in their flat. He then proceeded to explain to her the truth, hoping it would make it better.

It made it worse.

He'd been sleeping with her for two months before that day, and he thought it'd be better if they went their seperate ways. At least they agreed on that. She'd barely talked to him since, except for the other day when him and Harry had seen her with Draco.

"Oh, God." she breathed, putting her head in her hands and rocking herself back and forth.

And then the tears started coming.

She hadn't let herself cry over Ron since the day she found out, but now it all seemed to be flowing free.

They were happy together. Ron didn't need her in his life - perhaps he never did.

Perhaps he never would.

XXX

Draco got the food taken to go and was bouncing on the balls of his feet in the waiting area in the front of the restaurant. He didn't know what the bloody hell had just happened with Hermione, or why he had liked it so much, but, either way, someting wasn't right. He didn't know why she did it - for the Weasel or for the photographer or for herself, but, to be honest, he didn't really care. He quite enjoyed it.

But he knew it wasn't because she cared for him - that wasn't in the picture. It's not like he had romantic feelings for her, either, but he figured he could possibly in the future. He frowned at the thought.

Weird.

And that was when things started to go badly.

He glanced up when he noticed sudden movement and saw the Weasel striding over to him, not exactly looking jolly. Draco leaned against the wall and prepared himself, heaving a sigh.

"What are you playing at, Malfoy?" Weasel hissed, shoving Malfoy.

Malfoy steadied himself, raising an eyebrow. "Look, I don't know what's going on with you and Hermione, but I know she definately isn't your biggest fan. And she's with me now, so you don't have to right to get all territorial," he said, rolling his eyes. "And you should also know there's a photogrpaher over there for the Daily Prophet, snapping pictures of this lovely encounter, so show your pearly whites for the public."

Weasel set his jaw and glared. Luckily his back was to the photographer. "You hurt her, and I'll kill you."

"From what I gather, you're the one who hurt her," Draco said, and thanked the host when he handed him the food. "Now, if you'll excuse me - my girlfriend's waiting."

And Draco Apparated away, leaving Weasel's enraged face behind. He landed in the kitchen, and he noticed all the lights were off. He had figured Hermione went to bed - until he heard the sobs coming from the living room.

Draco wasn't the kind of guy to console a girl when she were upset, however git-ish that may be - it was messy business. It just wasn't his thing and he definately presumed he wasn't good at it, but he felt the need to, especially after what had happened back there.

"Hermione?" he said quietly, setting the food down and walking into the living room. Only the moonlight coming from the windows illuminated her tear-drenched face, and she didn't look up at him. She put her face in her hands and shook her head.

"I'm - sorry." she said between sharp intakes of breath, her voice muffled.

He swallowed and sat beside her hesitantly. "You know I don't blame you. And I owe you anyway for taking me in and stitching me up and all that."

"You don't owe me anything." she protested quietly, taking her hands away from her face and leaning against her elbows.

There was a short moment of silence in which Draco waited for her to say something. She didn't.

"So . . . what was that about? Not that I didn't enjoy it, but . . ." he joked lamely.

She snorted and stared intently at her intertwined hands. "I'm sorry about that, I know I must've killed a little piece of you soul right then." she half-joked.

Draco rolled his eyes, leaning back into the couch. "Hardly. You actually turned me on a bit, Granger."

She glanced back at him with a raised eyebrow. "Those are the kind of things you keep to yourself, Draco." she sighed like he was a child.

"So?" he prodded, "I think this would be an appropiate time to spill the beans on Weasel."

She swallowed and looked down at her hands again. "You're right," she said quietly, then took a deep breath, then continued, "Well, after the battle. . . ."

And she proceeded to tell him the whole story. How they were seemingly a happy couple, then how Hermione had found Weasel and Blondie snogging on their couch one day (Hermione had come home early to surprise him), then how Weasel had explained him and Blondie had been sleeping together for two months, and how, thank Merlin, him and Hermione immediately split up.

Draco was somewhat surprised at how angry he got - he wanted to curse Weasely into the next millenium. . . . or just a good punching would do the trick.

Draco cursed and stood, pacing. "I can't believe he'd do that to you," he ranted, not even paying attention to what he was saying, "What kind of person - "

"Draco," she said in a surprised tone, "it's alright. I'm . . . I'll be okay."

"Yeah, well, we'll just teach him how it feels, yeah?" he said, offering his hand to help her up. "You and me."

She half-smiled and took his hand, standing. "You and me."