Chapter Five

Brought To Life

"Hermione?"

Slowly her eyes fluttered open, Draco's anxious, sharp features coming into focus. She bolted up. "Joanne?"

"Shhh, she's fine. She's asleep. Theo says she'll be better when she wakes."

She rubbed her sleepy eyes. "What time is it?"

"Five-thirty. Are you hungry?"

Hermione's stomach pained. "Famished."

"Bake potato's sound appetizing?"

She nodded trailing Draco to the kitchen. While he bustled around she sat at the table. Where was the scolding? His daughter was sick and there he was cooking for her. Shouldn't he be angry? She rested her elbows on the table covering her face with her hands. She stayed like that listening to the sounds of the plates, glasses, the fridge door swishing open and close. She tried not to think of the girl sick in her room. It was hard.

Then Draco touched her shoulder. "You're not beating yourself up over this, are you?"

She let her hands fall. "I'm sorry, Draco. I didn't mean for her to get ill."

"Apology not accepted."

Tears filled her vision.

"Because there's nothing to forgive," he said quietly. "You did wonderfully. I'm glad you were here."

She shrugged but felt herself finally calming at his sincere words. "Theo would've been better."

"I don't know about that... Theo's a great babysitter, but..." He faced his back to her as he took the potato's out of the microwave, only cursing a little under his breath at their hot skins bouncing them in his hands. "Sometimes I think that she needs a woman around. A mother figure." He threw the potato's on the plates and then the plates on the table. He sat beside her.

"You've seem to have done a great job. She's a lovely girl."

He picked up his fork to set it down again. He raked his fingers through his hair. He heaved a heavy sigh.

"Do you want me to leave," she asked. She was sure that's what he was trying to say. He only raked his fingers through his hair like that when he was under a lot of stress, when he was worried about something.

He shook his head. "You'll leave. You're good at that."

She bristled. She didn't know why she was getting defensive. Everything he was saying was true. "What're you trying to say? Get out with it."

"Don't get too attached to Joanne. I don't want another person to abandon her, and you will." Draco shoved his plate from him and got to his feet, the chair scraping noisily. "Why did you come here, Hermione? You had other places you could go."

Hermione felt disgusted and she jumped up too. "If that's the way you feel about it, I'll be going!"

"I come home to find you taking care of my daughter like her mother should be doing. If you're going to be here I want to know why."

This was it, the discussion she knew she'd have to have. It was coming too soon for her liking. She was expecting that if she had to talk about it before she left it would be a while from then. Not within days. But Draco deserved to know the truth, and perhaps there would be a chance that it would make her feel better. It was long past overdue.

Hermione walked around the table and grasped his wrist. She dragged him to the sofa leaving their small meal in the kitchen. She twisted her body towards his but found that she couldn't look him in the eyes. She looked to her hands in her lap instead.

Draco wouldn't have it, he tucked a finger under her chin bringing her face to his. "It's time, Hermione. I've waited too long for this."

He was right. She had been waiting too. "I've never blamed you, Draco. It wasn't your fault..." The memory of the one time she should've said it continued to hurt.

Hermione was lying in her bed too shocked to move. She didn't feel real, she felt like a paper doll. Nothing felt real. She reminded herself to breath. In and out. Her breaths were her assurance that it was true. She was awake and living.

She didn't have to look to know that Draco was standing in the doorway. His presence brought a stronger sadness to the room that she didn't know was possible. Of course it had to be. Draco saw them die. He had his assurance, now he had to deal with the pain.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he said lowly. When she didn't answer he went on. "I should've done something. Anything. I didn't want this for them, you know that, right? Hermione? Please, speak to me."

She opened her mouth a fraction, but no sound came out. She was depraved of her voice. She couldn't worry about it. It was only temporary. Maybe the pain was too. She could only hope such ridiculous dreams.

"It's my fault... I killed them. I used the curse. When I did I was thrown back... My spine... I was healed, but... There was nothing they could do for them..." He took a shaky breath that broke into a sob. "They were being carried off. I don't doubt that they would rather die than betray us, but you know protocol. You know I had to kill them. They would've been tortured -"

She whimpered. It was the best sound she could make in response for him to stop talking. Deep inside of her she knew what he was trying to tell her from the beginning of that horrid night, she knew it all along. She didn't hate him for it. Harry and Ron would've done the same... Wouldn't they? Could they? Draco was different though... He did as he was taught. He wouldn't do it if he had any other choice. She couldn't find the will or the strength to hate him. Did that make her a horrible person? Would Harry and Ron understand that? Of course they would. They knew what the job meant.

"I'm sorry... Hermione, I really am. I'm not asking for you to make me feel better..." He sighed. "May I lay beside you?"

Stupidly she wondered whether she'd be able to motion for him to do so. She had her attention fully on her breathing, but she forced herself to grab the covers behind her pulling on them to reveal the sea green sheet, her breath skipping it's rhythmic beat.

There was a weight shift on the bed, but Draco didn't touch her. She didn't touch him. They simply... Existed.

In her gut she knew that they weren't going to be okay. He would eventually be all right, move on, but she couldn't. Her ties to the magical world, her best friends, her brothers were taken from her. She didn't blame him, he was only doing her job, her appreciable logic assured her of that.

She only blamed herself for the many lies she told her friends - her family over the past year. Her world was over, everything she knew. She didn't know her life without them. Her life would be non-existent if it weren't for them starting her first year of Hogwarts on that Halloween day. She didn't know what she would do.

Tears fell freely. She didn't bother to stop them, she didn't want to look away from Draco. He seemed to be in shock staring at the black screen of the television. She thought he would never say anything. Then he turned to her cupping her cheek.

"I waited for you. I hoped that you'd come back. If it wasn't my fault, why did you leave?"

"It was too much... I never told them about us. I lied to them until it was too late for the truth. I regret that immensely. I didn't know if we could..."

"Be," he finished for her.

"I should've told them... They would've been okay eventually," she croaked.

"But they would've never been okay with you leaving everyone."

"I've been a coward. I ran from you, my friends, my family, my career. I've never stopped running. I'm not sure how to stop."

He brushed down her jaw to her neck. "I have a suggestion... Stay here."

"what," she breathed, her tears slowing in their hot paths.

He laced his fingers in her hair. "Stay here. Don't go." he searched her features nervously. "You can begin your career again, your friends and family will forgive you."

"And us?"

"I've never stopped loving you."

She closed her eyes begging her head to quit spinning. "Your daughter?"

"She's taken quite a liking to you."

"I like her too."

"Then stay. Stay and don't leave." His lips pressed against hers.

She gasped in his mouth. It was like taking a gulp of fresh air after being under water too long. Her brain filled with oxygen, clearing her senses the veil falling from her eyes.

At that moment she realized that she'd been wallowing in what she couldn't control. She stopped her life for it, and much worse gave up everything and everyone she loved. She'd been beyond foolish.

It was a lot to comprehend in one spectacular kiss, but deep down she knew it all along. This was what she'd been waiting for. Not the kiss, but Draco. Waiting until something came along that would bring her back. She didn't want to think about what would've happened to her if Draco hadn't been behind that wheel. But he was. And she was there. With him. Alive once more she resolved herself in one fact: She was never letting go of him again and he appeared to be thinking the same thing.

He hooked her legs around his waist balancing her as she held onto the back of his neck. Gracefully he carried her to his bedroom lying her down on his bed never letting her go. He touched her cheek, chin, brow eyelids, lips, neck, shoulders, arms, waist, and hips. He kissed each of these spots.

Hermione unbuttoned his black shirt pecking kisses on the outer edges of his ear to his jaw line until he lifted off of her. She saw that he kept his fit figure she knew well.

He stared intensely at her, bearing his eyes into hers. "Promise me, Hermione."

"Promise you what?"

"That you won't leave."

"I promise."

Unexpectedly he groaned and descended on her holding her face as he kissed her deeply. He bent back when they were lost for breath. "Your promise isn't good enough. Make me another."

She touched the tips of their noses. "I'll promise you anything. I owe you everything."

"You don't owe me a thing anymore. We're finally together."

"What's your request?"

"Do you love me?"

"Yes."

"Then prove it. Marry me."

She slid her hands under his shirt clinging to his shoulders. She felt as though her new heart was going to leap from her chest. "I'm not good enough for you two."

"You're perfect." He stated it as if it were plainly obvious.

"How can you forgive me," she suddenly wondered aloud.

"Because you weren't the one that needed forgiveness. I should've went after you. I just thought..."

"I know..."

He kissed her breaking apart to ask, "are you going to marry me or not?"

She chortled. "Yes."

He caressed her leg resting himself between them. "I've missed you."

"Me too." She massaged her lips with his.

That night he truly brought her to life.

A/N: Don't think this is the end. Nothing is that simple is it?