He laid awake next to her, tangled in a mess of blankets and arms and legs. He carefully subtracted himself from her. She hummed something inaudible and turned onto her side facing away from him. This was wrong. This all so very wrong and he reveled in it. Their world was fucked up. It had been for years. But here, with her, they could hide from it. They could exist purely for existing and that was okay with him for the moment. He wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. He closed his eyes again, and sighed, before sliding his feet out of bed and onto the cold floor. The wood creaked under his weight, and he glanced at her. She didn't move, snoring lightly, but unaware of his presence. He smiled in spite of himself, slid down into the warmth of the bed, wrapping his arm around her waist. Her hand placed itself on top of is and he allowed himself to sleep again.

The days were rushing by and he kept finding himself with her. Her room, his, the living room, kitchen. Always near her, absolute constant interaction with each other. She panicked if he disappeared for too long, though she'd never admit it. He could hear it in her voice though, the solitary crack as she hesitantly called, "Malfoy?" As though he'd leave her here alone, not that he'd be able to. He worried about her. She had lost a fair amount of weight, and he knew she didn't sleep as often as he did. He regretted asking her about it after a particular morning in the library.

"What do you know, Malfoy? Absolutely nothing that's what. Just keep to yourself and stay out of my business."

"Someone has to look out for you, Granger." He cocked an eyebrow at her.

"I can look out for myself." She snapped.

"Obviously."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You're so wound up in what they're doing that you don't even stop to think of yourself. When was the last time they even fucking owled you, or clicked that stupid coin you're always toting around? When was the last time they showed a speck of caring for you?"

Her eyes grew dark. "When was the last time any of your lot showed any caring for you?"

"Well Granger, I wouldn't know since you censor any information that comes through here. For all I know they're trying to find me and you don't want me to know because I might rise about and try to overtake you or some shit."

"You know full well-" She pursed her lips. "I don't censor anything, I just-"
"Tell me what you think you should but not everything! But I'm aware enough to know that the people contacting you aren't Potter and Weasley. And that they haven't in a very long time. What are you going to do Granger? Stay here? Forever? Just fucking waiting around for someone to come and fetch you. You used to be better than that, or rather, you used to believe you were better than that and you made sure everyone knew that."
"And what of you?" She snapped, "Are you still the same person? Still the same cocky, pretentious boy you were?"

Draco fell silent.

"Look," He started, "I just…you lock everything up. You don't talk very much. It's almost as if your holding out this hope, that maybe…"
"Maybe what?"

"That maybe they were planning on coming back. That they haven't deserted you. When its really very clear, Granger, that you aren't high on the priority list."

Her eyes pierced him. He though momentarily that she might hit him, or yell, but she didn't. She stood very rigid, as if moving would hurt her.

"You're not very high on anyone's priority list either." She seethed and Draco gave a dry laugh.

"I've already come to terms with the fact that I'm not. I've known it since the day Dumbledore died. Just a means to an end. I had a mission, I failed it. I'm useless."

"So I'm useless now?"

"Did I ever say that? No, I didn't. But as much as it pains me to admit it, Granger, you're bloody clever, but Potter is as well. Yes, you're brilliant, but they are as well. Without you, they might have to struggle a bit, but they can get on without you. Just takes a bit longer. I just don't understand why you stay here."

"They're going to come back."

"They might come back. Are you really going to wait around to find out?"

Hermione huffed, and turned on her heel, leaving him alone in the room. He felt a smugness followed by the guilt of torturing her with the truth. Pushing her, when clearly it wasn't anything she wanted to hear. "Why pretend?" He thought to himself.

He was startled by how cold his bed was. And how uncomfortable it was to be alone. That was when he knew that it was no longer about the sex, but the company she brought him. He tried to think about the last time that they were even intimate together, and all he could think of, were the times where she beckoned him to her bed, and they fell asleep wrapped into each other. He refused to believe that he wanted her in his bed, but was willing to admit that someone would be nice.

Draco's thoughts rushed. He missed magic, and the ability to do anything he wanted with the flick of his hand. He wanted to ride a broom and go outside. It had been 3 months since he'd last felt the air. He could see the moon, peering in his window, taunting him. He climbed out of better and moved to the window. He wondered if it would burn him if he opened it, but it was so tempting. He put his hand on the glass and rested his forehead against it, closing his eyes, trying to imagine how cool the night was, how refreshing.

A hand touched his waist, wrapping itself around him, gently and calm. Hermione rested her chin on his shoulder, looking out the window as well. He shifted his head just a fraction of an inch towards her.

"Can we go outside, please?" He murmured. Her hair brushed him as she shook her head. He felt the anger bubble inside of him. "Why the bloody hell not?" There was instant regret as she pulled away from him completely.

"There are no wards set up. Someone could find us." It was reasonable enough, and he felt oddly relieved that she wasn't saying no, just for the sake of telling him no, but because she genuinely meant it, and meant well for their safety. He turned around to face her. She was still dressed, but her hair had come undone and stood awkwardly away from her head, and he felt the wave of sadness again. He smoothed her hair, and pulled her to him, kissing her forehead forcefully. "I'm sorry." She whispered. He shrugged in response, tilting her head up to him and kissing her. They'd find their way out eventually, no matter how it was done.

Hermione was gone in the morning. He had swung his arm over to catch her hip and felt the open bed. He sat up, groggy and disoriented, looking around the room.

"Well good morning sunshine." A very bitter voice came from the corner. Draco rubbed his eyes, and glanced at the person. "Glad you could fucking wake up, Malfoy."
Harry lounged in the chair, looking a little worse for wear, twirling his wand through his fingers.

"Potter. " Draco spat. Harry smirked. "What are you doing here?"

"Ah. Doesn't matter. Beside I'm the one who should be asking the question, I think."

"Oh really? And what exactly should you be asking?

"I don't know. Want to let me know how long you've been fucking Hermione?"