.

.

In the light of recent findings,
there's no greater taint than grace

But to relinquish all our bindings,
always finds us out of place

If I rested here a while more,
would you hold me to your heart

If I knew what it was meant for,
will I know to play my part

~Poets Of The Fall, Diamonds for tears~

.

It, kind of, didn't change anything…they went on pretending like it never happened.

She was still looking for a counter-curse and he was still drinking potions.

She was still planning and most of the days he helped her. But the heat from their conversations had died down. Like they were both tip toing around, not wanting to push any emotions out of each other.

It irritated and bothered him immensely. It was like living with a ghost of her day after day. He had to admit that it was the fire in her that made her so fascinating. This collected version was just too boring.

And she must have felt the same way about him…

Then one night he was woken up by her screaming. A pure scream of horror echoing from her room.

He bolted up and, without thinking much of it, rushed to her bedroom.

"What's wrong?"

She was sitting on her bed. Hair sticking everywhere. Her face white, eyes wide and wet.

"It was just a dream." He tried to calm her down from the doorway where he was standing.

She looked at him, still looking like she was captured in her nightmare. He took two steps into her room.

She blinked once, twice and started to hyperventilate.

"Granger…Hermione…" He was next to her now, sitting on her bed, not really knowing what to do.

The next thing he knew were her arms around his middle, and her burying her face to his chest, sobbing hysterically.

He had really no choice (or at least that he tried to tell himself….) But to put his arms around her and hug her close.

"They were all dead…all of them…" She muttered in between her sobs.

"It was a dream."

She snapped her head up and her hand to his cheek, like testing if he was real.

"You were dead…" Her eyes were staring right at his, tears still rolling.

He was loss of words...Her nightmares were of him dying...?

Her hand was still on his cheek…he didn't know what to do.

Honestly… he wanted to kiss her... to tell her it would be ok, that no one was going to be killed, that he was here, and he was not going anywhere…but of course, he wouldn't…

She blinked once and let her hand fall to her lap.

"I feel so lost…" She said quietly.

Was he supposed to say something? How could he comfort her when lost was mostly what he, too, was feeling…

"Draco…can you just…" She wasn't looking at him, "Would you stay? just to sleep?"

He didn't remember agreeing, but she lay down and pulled him with her, snuggled against his chest and hugged her arms around him. And he really wanted to run and hide, but instead he pulled her close, rested his head to her pillow, closed his eyes and fell asleep listening to her breathing.

.

.

.

That's how he stopped to sleep on the sofa and began to sleep in her bed.

Fall asleep his hands around her waist and wake up with her mane of a hair in his mouth.

Just to sleep…nothing more. They hadn't kissed, or done anything else for that matter, after that one faithful night... And besides the sleeping, everything was like it used to be between them…and it wasn't.

You just can't sleep in the same bed with someone, to soothe them after a nightmare, to hold them close so that you…or she…would feel safer, and not develop some emotional bond to them. No matter how he wanted to deny it.

He had tried to stay out of it, to sleep on the sofa again, but she had stood in her doorway looking questioning and he just was not man enough to tell her no… That he really couldn't…because she was the closest he had felt to anyone for a really long time… And to be honest (which he didn't want to be!) in her bed, wrapped in her warmth, he slept better than in ages.

The reality of his situation was thrown against his face about a month after they had started the weird habit of spending their nights in the same bed.

She came through the floo with victorious face.

"I found it!"

"Huh?"

She shook a book in her hand, "A cure for your curse! Of course!"

It should have been great news…but he felt oddly cold…

"Can you perform it?" He asked trying not to let the emotion show from his voice.

"I think so, yes" She sat on the sofa next to him.

"It's just a spell, doesn't seem too hard."

"So, let's give it a go then, shall we?"

As she waved her wand he could actually feel it. It was like something was being teared out of his skin, but it didn't hurt. He felt like being separated from something and just like that, some of the darkness he was bearing in his soul, had been lifted.

She stopped and eyed him.

"Did it work?" He asked impatiently

She shrugged, "Did you feel it?"

"I think so, yes…"

"I guess we just have to wait a few days to see."

He nodded.

"But remember to tell me if you feel like something's different, even if it is just a hint. Ok?"

He nodded again thinking about what he had felt, when she performed the spell. But didn't say anything…not even sure why…

Four days went by, he didn't drink potions, and nothing happened.

"I think it's safe to say it worked?" She sat beside him on the sofa once again.

He didn't answer,so she continued: "Weird, how simple the answer was, yet so hard to find."

"I think that was the point."

"So, this is it then?" She got up.

What was what? He didn't know what she was talking about. Not before she left the room and came back holding his wand! He jumped up too.

"Here." She handed it to him.

The same moment the wand hit his fingertips he felt the sore of magic run through his veins. And boy, did it feel euphoric. Like your arm had been detached and now it was put back again. He took his time to relish the feeling. When he turned back to look at her she looked oddly sad, her eyes glistering like tears were in danger of pouring over any moment.

"What's the matter?" He asked frowning at her expression.

"You're not my patient anymore. You're healed. We had a deal…" She took a shaking breath, "You're free to go."

He froze. Free to go? As in, leave? Not to be forced to stay inside these walls anymore? But… somehow, it felt wrong.

"I can leave?"

She nodded sadly, "You can go, walk out of the front door, if you like. There's just one thing you should know…"

His heart was acting on its own, speeding up. One thing?

"I told you I can't let you leave with everything you know." Her eyes were serious, "When you walk out, you'll forget everything that happened here."

He was just gaping at her, mixed feelings rolling in his head.

"You can do whatever you want then Draco!" She continued, "You will remember they attacked you, so you're not safe with them and that you were healed…"

"But nothing of this place?" He asked quietly, "Not of you?"

She shook her head, "I promised I won't feed you propaganda…that I will not affect your choice. You will be free Draco!"

"And alone…"

"Well maybe, but free! And you'll find your way. I'm sure of it!"

"No." He blurted, and she stopped, new argument dying before it left her lips.

"What?" Her voice was full of disbelief.

He took a deep breath… what if she wanted him gone?

"I won't do that! I won't just walk out and forget everything!"

"That's the only choice!" Her protest was weak.

He thought of life somewhere without this. Without her…. Being alone every day. No one to argue with… sleeping in a bed alone and waking up from nightmares with no one there…No heated conversations…no cooking together… her comments...her delicate arms around him… her blazing eyes when she spoke passionately about things close to her heart… no memories of her…

He shook his head, "I'm in too deep. I want this fucking war to end too, you know? I will never be free if He's still alive…"

She was looking at him with a look on her face he didn't recognize.

"This! you! Are the only thing keeping me sane these days and I think I'm the same for you!" Bold, but what more did he have to lose? "I've lost everything! I can't lose this too!"

She jumped him.

Her lips crashing his and her arms flung around his neck.

Relief washed over him as he responded to her. She didn't want him to go either…

Now given the chance, he was holding on to her like his life depended on it, drowning himself to their kiss.

It was the way their lips danced together, the way his hands fit perfectly to her curves, the way she pulled him closer like she'd never let go, that made him think briefly: why hand they found each other only now in the middle of this war...

This was different than the last time…He was pretty sure this couldn't be just two people in desperate need to fuck.

This was him

and this was her

The way their fingers linked around each other, the depth of their kisses, the slow pace of their bodies, the way she wrapped her legs around him and held onto him….

this was more than just a fuck…this was more than just raw need…