Chapter 15

Lavender Brown opened the window to small apartment that her and Ronald Weasley shared in Hogmeade, and peered out on the small, sleepy town. No one had woken up yet, not even the shop owners. Usually by this time, you could see and hear the shop keepers bustling around the city, preparing for a busy days work. Their apartment was a modest size, with two rooms – their bedroom, and a larger common area with a kitchen. The location was perfect for them Lavender was close to any shopping she would ever need, and Ron was within walking distance of Weasley Wizards Wheezes so he could visit George whenever he pleased. She liked it here – she had chosen it. Lavender had been living in this quiet apartment for almost a year before Ron had shown up on her doorstep, begging her to take him back. They had been in touch sporadically since the war, but not romantically since she had stormed out of the infirmary after Ron had been poisoned their sixth year. Lavender was not unhappy being Ron – she did love him – but she knew that he would always have feelings for Hermione, and once his anger subsided, he would go back to her…just like he always did. But maybe this time was different – Hermione had left him, not the other way around. Surely she had moved on. Something had to be brewing in the house between her and Malfoy. Ron wouldn't leave her her this time.

She allowed a large, brutish owl to land on her windowsill and unfastened the Daily Prophet and Quibbler from it. Giving the bird its compensation, it flew away and Lavender closed the window, looking back at Ron's sleeping form. He was practically hanging off the bed, mouth open, snoring like a banshee. She sat back on the bed, settling in to read the headlines of both publications. Her eyes focused on the bold words of the Daily Prophet, and she gasped dropping the paper onto her lap and startling Ron awake.

"LUCIUS MALFOY MURDERED IN AZKABAN!"

"Ron look at this!" Lavender said as she handed the Daily Prophet to run and reading a similar headline on the Quibbler. She watched as he read through it, his eyebrows creased in an upset grimace.

"Well, I think that old bat had it coming! I'd like to know who's done it so I can shake their hand" he huffed setting the paper down on his lap.

"Ron!" Lavender yelled, "Why would ever wish death onto anyone?!" She couldn't believe that her boyfriend had just uttered those words. Draco Malfoy – as rude and tormenting as he was at Hogwarts – had just had his father. He would be grieving like any other human being. And what was worse, Draco had no one else to lean on. He didn't have a mother; he had no friends anymore; he would live the rest of his lonely life in Azkaban. Lavender Brown pitied Draco Malfoy, and she didn't comprehend why her boyfriend was being so thick. She understood that it was Lucius Mafoy – a man who had tormented him and his family for all his life – but why would he ever wish his death?! It was inhumane.

"Lav, this man gave my kid sister Voldemort's diary, which almost got her killed if you can remember!" He was getting redder and redder, and eventually shoved the paper in Lavender's direction, "Here, I can't even look at this anymore!" She glanced at it again, skimming the article once more.

"They say whoever is doing this is after Draco too…" she started warily, unsure if Ron wanted to pursue this conversation.

He turned from his path to the bathroom and said, "Good, I hope they get him, I hate that prat just as much, if not more, than his father!" And with that he marched into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

Lavender sighed, Ron could be so ignorant sometimes.

The light from the window was shining straight into Draco's closed eyes. It was bothering him. He shifted away from it, stretching his legs out like a cat, then receding into a little ball. This didn't help; he was awake now. He opened his eyes to see Hermione Granger next to him, face completely relaxed, hair strewn all over her pillow. He could look at her for days. She was so calm, so carefree when she slept. Nowadays, all she did was stress about his trial, and work, and ask him question, then yell at him for not wanting to answer her questions. Her mind was always turning; she was always running in circles. When she slept, she wasn't thinking, she wasn't stressing. He liked her this way.

Draco looked around the room before setting his eyes back on Hermione. He liked her room. It felt like home. Both of their clothes were strewn around the room, books piled high on Hermione's side, opened and unopened. Hermione's jewellery covered the top of her dresser, and her closet door was opened and he could see her new and un-Grangerly clothes. It reminded him of when he was young, lying in his parent's bed weekend mornings. He could see into their closet; see their clothes, their messes, essentially their lives.

He had a little over two weeks until his trial now, and he and Hermione had been sleeping in the same bed for all that time. It started out that Draco just wanted her company and her comfort when he got his night terrors. Those nights he would fall asleep in his own bed, then jolt awake from a nightmarish vision, and creep into her bed, where she was awake waiting for him. She would stroke his hair until he fell back asleep, then nestle into his chest. She made him feel needed in a time when he felt utterly alone. That was a week ago. It had gotten to the point where now he couldn't sleep without her nearby. Their nights now consisted of dinner, which was spent eating with some occasional small talk. By then, they – especially Hermione – were so drained by the day's work, that they just weren't in the mood for talking. They would read together in the reading room usually until Hermione fell asleep with her book on her chest. He smirked – she did that every night without fail. Knowing that she would wake up to his movement, he would get up and head upstairs, getting ready for bed, and eventually sitting waiting for her in her bed. She would arrive – still in a sleepy haze – and undress, hopping in bed and falling immediately to sleep. When he had first tried this, he had expected her to get upset with him, rebuffing him completely. But she hadn't, and now they were here. He looked at her again and smiled; this was the best part of his day, when they could just quietly lay in each other's presence. He would miss this.

Draco had realized long ago that he cared for her deeply – more than he had ever expected. He had realized this the night of his birthday, when his hand was on Granger's face, and his lips were on hers. And his feelings were only solidified looking at her now. He just wanted to kiss her softly, to hold her. Draco shifted to look at the imperfect ceiling above him. He had never really felt this way before. He had always viewed girls around him as objects for him to use for his own pleasure. He usually got exactly what he wanted before he even had to ask. But Hermione was different; she didn't give him everything he wanted; he had to work for her affection. He wanted to be in her good graces, because he knew it was not an automatic thing. He didn't want to be anywhere else. But their affection had been something non-existent since his birthday. They barely touched each other, and if they did, he could practically hear Hermione spiral off into frantic thought. They were wary around each other: careful not to touch, say something too emotional, or – god forbid – talk about what was going on between them. He sniffed, turning back onto his side looking at Hermione's closed eyes again; Azkaban was going to be brutal.

Hermione's eyes fluttered open, but only just, the sun was beaming in her direction, "Like the view?" she said groggily, curling up into a little ball. Draco reddened in embarrassment; he had been caught.

"Can't complain" he retorted jokingly, usual smirk crossing his face. Hermione had completely opened her eyes now, and was mimicking his position, propping herself up on her elbow staring right back at him. They smiled and just stared at each other for a while. Draco was in bliss, but had to do something…it either had to stop completely or start completely. No more limbo. But before he could say anything, Hermione shifted to her back, looking up to the ceiling he had once looked at.

"Don't you wish we could just lay in this bed forever?" she said quietly. Darco inched towards her wanting to feel the warmth radiating from her small body.

"It's funny…I was just thinking about that" he said to her, smiling broadly. And with a swing of courage, he closed the space between them, wrapping his arm around her and pulling his body to her. He was immediately inebriated by her scent – honey and vanilla, and her hair was tickling his cheek as it rested on her shoulder. He fiddled with the cotton separating him from the soft, milky skin of her stomach, eventually falling to temptation and placing his hand on the bare skin. He smiled, he was so content, he didn't want to move ever. He squeezed Hermione closer, tilting his mouth closer to her ear, "I could be here all day."

Hermione felt his eyes watching her. She wouldn't move just yet, let him have some moments to himself. She felt like smiling. No one had ever just wanted to look at her before. Sure, Ron had loved her, and they had had a great run, but he had never watched her the way Draco would. He would look her as though he were trying to memorize every little detail of her face – her nose, her eyelashes, the cracks on her dried lips – then reanalyse her face to see if anything had changed. He would do this while she ate, while she worked, while she read, even while she slept.

She had sworn to herself that she would soon have "the talk" with Draco. Things were getting awkward. Touching was strictly off limits lest she get sucked into the overthinking the entire situation. She had mustered up the courage the first night Draco came into her room, intending to speak to him the next morning. She had woken up nestled into his chest with his secure grasp around her. She felt so comfortable and right here, and she didn't want to ruin it, at least not yet. Just a little bit longer. However, she had never anticipated their "thing" to last until now. She would hear Draco screaming at night and crawling into her bed sweaty and dishevelled. She would just comfort him, hold him. But eventually, Draco just started waiting for her to go to bed, following her into her room. They had become so accustomed to each other's presences. He had an entire routine and methodology that Hermione had begun to notice. But then again so did she. They had both fallen into a sort of rhythm that would not exist without the other.

They would wake up, usually Draco first, who would wake Hermione when he would slither into the bathroom and eventually into the shower. Hermione would then wake up and cook for breakfast in her pyjamas, reading the headlines of the Prophet and Quibbler. Draco would come down, and they would eat together, Hermione reading articles and her notes, and Draco just eating and staring. Draco would clean the kitchen while Hermione took her own shower and got dressed. Hermione would descend with her notepad and a pile of books, seating herself at the kitchen table and beckoning Draco. She would ask her first question and he would give his first response. The tone of her questions and his willingness to respond would usually set the tone for the rest of the day. It could be cooperative or a struggle. In the latter case, they would argue endlessly, yelling at each other as they did in Hogwarts. This would last until dinner, when Hermione cooked and served, then they both ate in silence because they were so mentally exhausted to even speak to each other. Then came the reading. They would sit in the reading room, reading for hours. Hermione usually fell asleep, setting her book open on her chest and dozing off. She would be awakened by Draco getting off the couch to get ready for bed. She would eventually follow him to her room. He would undress in the corner in front of the window. He would give her her own privacy by looking out the window as he took off his shirt and pants, sliding on his sweats, and then watching for a while longer. Hermione blushed slightly as she remembered his toned thighs and strong back. She couldn't help but look! They would then get in bed and fall asleep. There was no time for anything else. Hermione was usually so exhausted from her days that she immediately fell asleep.

And so here they were. Draco was awake, but not moving. It must be Saturday. He was watching her again. She heard him shift and peeked at him. He had both his arms behind his head, and stared intently at the ceiling. She could tell he was thinking of them and of Azkaban. They were so complicated. She closed her eyes again; she didn't want to get caught. Eventually, he turned back towards her, starting his analysis of her face all over again.

"Like the view?" she asked him, squinting the bright sun out of her still sleepy eyes. Hermione saw him blush, but he tried to hide it with his trademark smirk.

"Can't complain" now she wanted to blush. He always liked to compliment her. He made it so blatantly obvious. It wasn't like a grade school love when the boy would bully the girl, but secretly be infatuated with her. Draco cared for her, and he let her know. Sometimes it made Hermione uncomfortable. He was smiling at her. It wasn't a smirk or a wolfish grin, it was a genuine smile. She could only help to smile back at him.

She sighed, and shifted onto her back, "Don't you wish we could just lay in this bed forever?" she truly wished that they could. This time of the day was always the best. They were both calm. The normal stress of the day had not yet started.

She felt him shift slightly towards her, "It's funny…I was just thinking about that" and then moved closer, wrapping his arm around her waist and resting his head on her shoulder. Draco had always been a flatterer, but he was never touchy like this. His hand brought up her cotton t-shirt up a little bit, and touched the soft skin above her belly button. She resisted falling into a fit of giggles. He squeezed her closer, and whispered into her ear, "I could be here all day." His warm breath tickled her ear like the first time they had slept in the same bed. She felt goosebumps rise all over her body. What was he doing? What had gotten into Draco Malfoy's brain? This was so not what they had been doing these past weeks. Hermione couldn't stand it any longer! Draco's trial was in two and a half weeks. Were they doing this or where they not? They couldn't just play around before Draco went off to a lifelong sentence to Azkaban. It was now or never.

"What are we doing, Draco?" she said in a whisper. His head snapped up, confused look on his face; he had taken it the wrong way. "I mean, your trial is in two weeks. I feel like we're just dicking around here." She blushed realizing how forward she was being, but she reminded herself that it needed to happen.

"Well…whatever we're doing – I believe it's called cuddling – I like it" he answered with a smirk on his face and lowered his head back to her shoulder. She sighed, leave it Draco Malfoy to joke when you are trying to start a serious conversation. She pushed him off of her, and sat up, pulling herself back to the headboard.

"I'm serious" she looked at him with a stern expression, "I don't want to do this fifty per cent anymore, I want all or nothing!" Draco now seemed taken aback with her tone and questions, but he seemed accepting. He looked around her face and into her eyes. It seemed as though he was trying to read the answer off her face. There was only one thing she could do to answer it for him.

Hermione lowered her lips to his, cupping her small hand in the nape of his neck and pulling him towards her. He was going to have to prove himself to her. Draco responded immediately, bringing himself up to her, pushing her down to the bed slightly. He was kissing her hard; he wanted this. She slid her hand from his neck to his cheek, softening the kiss. She had gotten her answer; she was content. But Draco didn't want to stop, he wound his arm around her waist pulling her to him, deepening the kiss. She allowed him too, caressing his lower lip with her tongue. She was on fire. Draco was aggressively taking control, wanting more. She liked it; she was exhilarated. The softness of her hands turned hard as she pulled his face with one hand, and reaching to his bare back. She had to get him closer to her. She felt him grow excited. He wanted her. She felt his lips leave hers, trailing kisses along her jaw and down to her neck. She let out a soft moan of pleasure, tilting her head back to give him more room. This was happening. They were going to do this. One hundred per cent. This was so much better than nothing at all. She was feeling herself getting carried away, falling into his spell. She realised that this was how everything started with them. They would do something once, and it would just be added to their routine. She didn't want this just to be part of the routine.

"Wait" she started, and Draco recoiled as though he had touched a stove.

"I'm sorry. Did I do something wrong?" he looked so concerned, upset even. She couldn't help but to laugh. He had let himself go too far.

"No, nothing," she giggled and he visibly relaxed, putting is hand on her thigh, "I just want to hear this…We are doing this, right? For the next two weeks?" His eyes instantly went dark – he forgotten about his immanent fate.

"I shouldn't. I didn't realize how close it was. I don't want to lead you on; to hurt you." He looked so sad. She leaned forward and kissed him softly like he had the night of his birthday, letting her lips linger on his.

"But I'm tough. I don't hurt so easy. And I think you need this Malfoy. You underestimate my capabilities as a wizard lawyer. I think we should do this. Whatever happens happens. Only we have to know about it." She gave him a reassuring smile and he squeezed her thigh in approval.

He leaned forward, looking into her eyes, silently thanking her, and kissed her softly but with desperation. He kissed her with a passion and fervour that she had never felt before; not with Viktor, and not even with Ron. She pulled back slowly and smiled at him.

"For both our sakes, I really hope you don't go to Azkaban" he laughed – genuine, happy, loud laugh.

"Well Granger, that rests on your shoulders now."

A/N: Yay for Romance! Let me know what your feelings are about this chapter. We got to see more from Lav and Ron this time, as well as some serious cuteness from our favourite couple.

Hope you liked it! Read and Review!