Chapter 7: Need You Now

"And I don't know how
I can do without
I just need you now.."

Lady Antebellum (Need You Now)

They appeared in a forest and she immediately loosened her grip on his suit. He inclined his head to the right and walked away while indicating that she should follow.

"What's this Malfoy? This isn't a restaurant," her voice shook.

He paused before he turned around and walked towards her. She, in return, took several steps back until she hit a tree trunk. This was why he was at her house. Everything came down to this moment. He was going to kill her wasn't he? Paranoia burst through her and adrenaline was burning in her veins. Grabbing her wand out of her pocket, she pointed it at him and questioned, "What are you trying to do Malfoy?"

"Please, Hermione. Just trust me," he said softly.

"Well, you haven't exactly done many honorable things for me to do that," she spat.

She could almost feel the flicker of pain before it crossed his face before she felt guilt. Hadn't he explained his side of the story this morning?

"Why don't you follow me first? Once you have seen what I brought you here for, it's up to you to decide if you want to leave or stay."

She eyed him in the limited amount of moonlight that filtered down from the canopy above. His posture didn't seem to indicate that there was any threat. His shoulders were hunched forward and his hands were in his pockets. To her, he looked more like he was trying to prevent himself from experiencing even more pain. Finally, she gave a long drawn out sigh to indicate her great displeasure in this situation. He smiled slightly before turning and walking off. She followed several paces behind.

Looking around, she noticed that the trees were rather close together, and she had to, on more than one occasion, cling to a tree trunk in a bid to keep herself from falling over tangled roots. The cold wind filtered through the trees, causing the rustling of leaves to echo all around her. Shivers ran down her spine and she wrapped her arms around her body, wishing that she'd brought her cloak with her. This forest was too much like the Forbidden forest; she had never liked that forest in the first place.

The dim light seemed to be playing tricks on her eyes; twice she thought she saw something moving in the shadows. This unnerved her to no end, but the final straw came when she could almost swore she heard a twig crack and a cackle, the one that haunted her nightmares, float towards her. Apprehension was now replaced by a deeply rooted fear and she burst into a run, occasionally flinging her head over her shoulder, as if she expected someone to give chase. A hand suddenly reached out to grab her arm and her mouth immediately opened in preparation to give the loudest scream that she could possibly produce, but she was cut off when a voice said, "Relax, Hermione, it's only me."

She looked up into his silver grey eyes and when she saw that he didn't intend to harm her in anyway, she finally allowed herself to relax. With him around, the things that had scared her earlier seemed rather ridiculous now. Wait, had she just thought of that? Oh gosh, she was starting to think of him as her protector. Shaking her head slightly, she pulled her arm from his grip and murmured her thanks. He merely nodded in return and said, "We're not far now."

They resumed their walk, but this time, he reduced the size of his strides to walk alongside her instead of in front of her. His presence was like a soothing drug to her jumpy system. She didn't know why, but perhaps she was beginning to trust him?

Before she knew it, they had stepped out of the tree line of the forest. She gasped at the view before her; they were facing a huge lake that stretched for miles and above it, twinkling stars blanketed the sky. The air smelled clean and fresh and the wind was reduced to a mere caress against her exposed skin. She allowed herself to drink in the sight, one that she had only read of in novels. Turning her head slightly, she took in Draco's form, he appeared to be enjoying the scenery as much as she did with a small but serene smile perched on his face. They strolled forward and Draco pulled out a small cloth from his pocket. Muttering something, he enlarged it till it was the size of a blanket and laid it out on the ground. Following which, he pulled out a small basket and enlarged it as well. Motioning for her to sit down on the blanket, he pulled out some food and a bottle of champagne. She settled myself onto the blanket and continued to admire the gorgeous scene before her.

When she was a little girl, she'd believed that each star was an angel looking down upon Earth. Of course, she dispelled that idea quickly when she grew older and read several books about it. Yet, the stars made her feel like that little girl again, with the naivety that comes with young age and the feeling of being utterly content most of the time. It was peaceful.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

Not tearing her eyes away, she nodded. Subconsciously, she tugged on her sleeves. It was a nervous habit of hers. When she heard his breathing catch, she turned to glance at him. He was staring at her wrist in shock. Realizing she had revealed more than she intended, she pulled her sleeve down, but he was one step ahead of her and placed his hand on her arm, halting her movements. She couldn't read the emotion in his eyes. He fingered the thin marks across her wrist. That action, so gentle, so tender, caught her off guard, and it weakened her resolve slightly. She shuddered and pulled her hand away from his. No, she wouldn't cry. She promised herself that she was going to be stronger wouldn't she? And she wasn't someone who broke promises.

But that person, the one who wouldn't break promises, was a mere shadow now. She just didn't notice it till then. Tears chartered the familiar path down her face. Stupid, salty, idiotic tears. Gosh, she must be turning loony, she was cursing at tears for god's sake. She brushed the tears away with the back of her hand angrily. Just then, warm arms wrapped around her and she felt herself being lifted up before being settled back down into a soft embrace. Opening her eyes slightly, she noticed she was sitting in that person's lap. Somewhere in her mind, there was a small voice that protested at his proximity but at this point, she couldn't really care. She buried her face in his shoulder and allowed herself to cry freely again. His hands were running through her hair now, and she relaxed into it.

She had never told anyone how the war had affected her. Not Mrs. Weasley, not Ron, and definitely not Harry. At that time, putting on a brave front had been the best choice – Harry had to defeat Voldemort and it wasn't a time for her to be a whimpering pile of mess. So she had buried everything deep within her and put on a calm confident visage. Harry and Ron could sometimes tell, after the events at Malfoy Manor, that something was slightly off with her, but she brushed aside their worries by saying it was PMS or stress or a combination of the two. She liked that they could tell when she wasn't right, but she hated it when they believed her lie so easily.

Being alone in her house for the past few weeks allowed some of hidden emotions to trickle through. The entire emotional and physical trauma came back with haunting clarity. She remembered standing in front of the mirror, the sharp razor blade in her hand. She recalled looking at herself and thinking, how do I make the pain stop? The answer was so simple. Just a few strokes and she didn't have to think about all the bodies, all the loss and all the gut wrenching pain. Then, there was the slow drip of crimson blood down the sink.

She had never done that again. She was tempted, yes, many times, but she somehow couldn't do it. She never healed the wounds with magic, but let it heal itself, for she wanted it to be a solemn reminder of how the war affected her. She wanted to be strong, she wanted to persevere, and she thought she had settled her emotions and moved on. Yet, that wasn't the case was it? She had merely ran away, not dealing with it and not talking about it to someone, anyone. The lost of her parents had been the final blow for her, and she had slipped away from the world.

As her heaving sobs subsided into hiccups, she began to realize that Malfoy's body was really warm and lovely; she never had someone hold her like this for such a long time and she rather enjoyed it. Malfoy stopped stroking her hair when she had quieted down.

"Are you feeling better?" There was concern in his tone.

Pulling herself away, she nodded. He lifted one hand and brushed the tears off her cheeks with his thumb. She leaned into his touch and he appeared surprised, but pleased. Looking in his eyes, she could feel and understand that he had changed. The fact that he was willing to comfort her proved that perhaps he still had some empathy in him. The rather serious moment was interrupted when Hermione's stomach unleashed a loud growl. He chuckled as she quickly blushed and looked away. Pushing a plate of food towards her, he said, "Dig in."

Grabbing a sandwich off the plate, she munched on it silently while watching him out of the corner of her eyes. As if noticing her eyes on him, he flashed her a quick smile, before he became serious.

"Would you like to talk about it? It may help," he added quickly.

She sighed and played with her fingers. Should she do it, or more importantly, could she do it? Maybe he was right, maybe, this would all get better if she was willing to deal with it head on. She shut her eyes and stilled the trembles that threatened to shake her body. Grasping her hands together, she opened her eyes and spoke.

As the night grew deeper, the stars shone, if possible, even brighter than before, but Hermione didn't notice this. She was focused on trying to face the truth, to deal with her past instead of running away from it. Slowly, she felt herself heal, to ease past the war and head towards what may be a bright future ahead. She didn't leave anything out, the good, the bad, the ugly, and she told it all to Draco Malfoy. Sometimes she laughed deliriously, and sometimes she sobbed like no tomorrow, but when she did, he always held her tight. By the end of her story, she felt such a deep connection with him that she leaned forward, looked deeply into his beautiful eyes, and kissed him. He kissed her back.

Something in the air between changed that night, but the resentment was drifting away, slowly being replaced by a new feeling, one that filled her with warmth and happiness. Perhaps it was a crush, an infatuation, or maybe it was a pathetic attempt to make herself happy again.

Maybe, just maybe, it was love?

A/N: I realise this chapter is kind of short, but I didn't wanted to drag out the time between updates. Hope you enjoyed reading it.

I watched BAFTA honor Harry Potter with the 'Outstanding British Contribution to Cinema' and Stephen Fry gave this wonderful speech: "In pages of J.K. Rowling's seven novels, the Harry Potter cycle became the most successful literary series of our time - perhaps of all time. New words entered the language: Hogwarts, Muggle, Quidditch, Mudblood… Characters like Harry, Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, Snape, and Voldemort who musn't be - oh damn, I named him. They made an indelible mark in the imagination of millions of adults and children the world over. Could such an unprecedented and astounding phenomenon ever be translated to the screen? Well with a total of twenty-eight BAFTA nominations, and the final installment still to come, the Harry Potter series has shown british film-making in its very best light. Dramatically, dazzling, technically breath-taking, internationally record-breaking, at the heart of the film's appeal, is the fact that no matter how much money they make, and believe me, it is a shi-load… the Harry Potter movies all seem to have been crafted with an attention to detail and the love which bespeaks genuine care and affection. So successfully, inventively, and faithfully, have the Harry Potter movies transferred J.K. Rowling's vision to the screen, that some have suggested, unbelievable though it may seem, the films may actually be better than the quite brilliantly voiced audiobooks. "

I couldn't have agreed more with what he said.

Harry Potter has a special place in my heart. Is it the same for you?

Hope you've had a wonderful Valentine's Day. (This chapter is for all Dramione fans and romantics out there!)

Till next time,

AmandaCJY