Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any of these characters and I'm certainly not making money off of this story.

A/N: To my usual lovely reviewer Alice Wednesday and my new reviewers, such as Celestine Alexis. Your praise is the only things keeping this story going.

May

Draco:

"You're six years old when you develop the personality that is set for life."

"Hm."

"Don't care for my helpful facts, Granger?"

Hermione put her water bottle down next to her and shrugged.

"That wasn't helpful. It was rather stupid, actually."

"Not if you actually listened to what I said."

"Malfoy," she sighed. "I did listen. You said you get your permanent personality at age six."

"Yes."

"And?"

"And. So. If your parents had known that when you were six, than maybe they could have erased your more asinine qualities and you wouldn't be such a nuisance to me."

She stood up, twisting her water bottle in her hands.

"Right, that's it. I'm done for the day."

He smirked at her.

"You haven't even smoked yet."

"I'm quitting."

"You haven't even been smoking for a month!"

"And in that month I haven't been running. Hence," she gestured down at her running uniform. "Why I am dressed this way."

"Oh, go fuck yourself."

"Goodbye, Malfoy."

When she left, he found that he wasn't in the mood to smoke either and simply sat for a while. Whenever he was alone he was forced to remember why he was here, in the place he didn't know with only Granger for company. It was now May; the old hag had come to visit him in March, which left him eleven months to fall in love. Currently, he had not even slept with someone, much less gone on a date, which really should have worried him but didn't.

Living without magic was difficult. It bore on him every day but at least since he started meeting up with Granger he didn't find himself in the pub early in the morning very often.

He cooked for himself every time he grew hungry. Food had developed a religious quality for him and while he ate he often liked to sit on the porch and look out at that same beautiful body of water that he had noticed the first night. Solitude was treating him well, but he couldn't say the same for his mother.

Hermione:

"This is your house? Really?"

"Just sit down and spare me the unnecessary comments."

"No, no. I'm…impressed. It's quite clean."

He rolled his eyes at her and took her jacket.

"It's too warm for a jacket, I don't know why you bother."

"What was that you said earlier about unnecessary comments?"

She took a seat around his kitchen table and examined the room. It was clean, like she had told him, but it was also more than that. The entrance of the house and the living room that she had walked through to get to the kitchen, were just as clean but not as…lived in. The difference between the rooms was significant in that way. One just had to walk in and they could tell that this was the most loved room.

"You going to make me something to eat?"

He looked over at her, warily dissecting her face for the obvious joke.

"No."

"Right, no, you wouldn't know how to do that would you? No servants around to cook your meals?"

"Go to hell."

"I'm already there, sitting in a chair that's hurting my ass."

"God damnit, Hermione. Why can't you just stop for one minute? I haven't even taken my shoes off yet."

The tone of his voice jolted her. It was so familiar but she couldn't place it.

"It's not like you don't pick at me first." So familiar…but implacable.

He banged his palm on the wall, the other hand yanking off his shoe.

"No, see, here's the difference. You can't leave ANYTHING alone. Even after I told you to just stop, you kept going like a fucking battery."

She glared at him, her knees touching the leg of the table.

"Why am I here if you don't want me to be?"

"For fucking Christ's sake, Hermione. I didn't say I didn't want you here. Why do you always call yourself out as this unwanted creature? No one actually says they don't want you, but it's like you want them to not like you so you can have a…a reason to tell them why they should like you!"

"That's-"

"True and you know it. So tell me. Is that why Weasel left you? Couldn't stand your bitching any longer?"

Her ears began to ring and everything else in the room became irrelevant. Her mind told her mouth to say, "Stop." But it never made it out. She felt like there was an endless amount of water pouring down her throat and she couldn't speak. She couldn't move. And that's when she knew someone else was going to have to see her fold into herself. Someone would be witness to this catastrophe that was her chemical makeup.

It was overcoming her now and she felt it crash down heavy and clean. Clear as crystal and right as rain.

-x-

"I'm not happy, Hermione."

She froze. Was she unhappy? They had been fighting for months now. Sometimes the fights ended and they were ok. Other times, most times, they just weren't. But to hear Ron say this, out loud, was deafening. She was torn between running to the bedroom and just running from him in general.

"About like…work?"

"Everything."

"Can I help? I want-"

I'm not happy here."

She moved impatiently, her fingers twitching, her neck creaking.

"I think… I don't know if I want to do this…anymore."

The words hit her heavily and felt sharper than she had expected them to. They took the wind out of her and made her reel. She bent and looked at her feet. Her toes were SeaFoam colored, which used to make her smile. Now she'd never look at it the same.

"Sometimes Hermione, I just think that…I mean, it all comes down to if two people should be together."

"You don't…think we should be together?"

"I don't know 'Mione. I don't-"

"Don't call me that, you know I hate that."

"Don't you see? Don't you? I mean the way we are now…no! Hermione, I don't want to be with you like this."

And then she was sitting on the couch, unable to leave but unwilling to stay. He sat down on the opposite end and put his head in his hands.

"Can you at least give me a reason?" She spoke into her hands. He paused. Looked at her. There was a relaxed expression on his face…like someone who was finally coming clean.

"With my new job at work I've been getting to know people, and I just feel like…like I'm rediscovering myself. Me. I haven't been me or felt like myself in…I don't know." Her mouth twitched, frozen on unspoken protests. "I think I used to be myself around you. But it's like you've been trying to kill it ever since."

"I'm not trying to kill you, Ron." The words felt broken and lost in their remains.

"But that's what it feels like. And it's not just you, I'm sure I'm doing it as well."

"I'm me around you!" A lie. She hadn't been herself around anyone lately.

"No."

He moved closer to her; he put a hand on her knee and she jumped.

"Don't-"

"I was just-"

"-You can't-"

"Ok."

She swallowed and looked around. She felt like a deer in headlights. She felt more exposed than she ever had before and maybe that was because this was it. She knew that this was the end of them and her with him, and every little thing in between. There would be no more little red hairs in her brush, or gobs of toothpaste on the sink faucet. No one would leave cum stains in the shower or drink the last of the milk without asking.

Before she had felt nothing. No love, no happiness. Then there was anger and even then that was a short fuse. Now she felt everything and it was all at once. She couldn't bear to be near him. She apparated and lay on the floor of her flat.

She heard in her head her mother telling her that you never knew what you had until it was gone, but Hermione knew what she had lost before she even lost him. He hadn't been hers in a long time. She hadn't even been her own for a long time.

The next day he had tried to come in. He told her he wanted to try and fix things. But she didn't answer the door and left wards up on her flat so he couldn't pop in. And now she was here. Now she missed him, every day and night and all the moments surrounding that. She ached in places that could hold no more ache.

"Hey." And then she remembered she was somewhere else. That she was with someone else. "You ok?"

His voice sounded funny with concern in it. As if he was unsure whether or not he actually meant the question.

"I'm…" she stood up. "I'm…"

"Yes?"

"Empty."

Draco:

"You have so many issues."

"Less than you, I'd be willing to bet." Hermione huffed and took her pack from Draco's lap.

"Hey, I wanted those!"

"Sharing is for people who deserve it."

"I deserve a lot more than you give me credit for."

"That is not-"

"Don't argu-"

"I'll do what I want."

And just like that, she had made him boiling mad, once again, without even trying. He couldn't stand the way she sat there, judging him. She would look over every couple minutes and cast her gaze all over him and he knew…he knew without asking, what she was thinking.

"I thought you quit…again." He smirked.

She flicked her cigarette on his knee. The ashes blew off with the wind. It was beautiful that early afternoon in May, and he was glad he had someone to share it with, even if it was only Granger.

"Tell me something. Anything."

She made a sound of contentment, but he knew she was thinking.

"When I was young, before I ever got my letter to Hogwarts, my parent's took me to The British Museum. I remember it because there were lots of bones and I thought…how can there be bones but no skin? And no matter how many time my Mum told me that it was because they were dead, I didn't understand still."

"Really positive story. Thanks for sharing."

"Will you let me finish? No, you're not listening, don't shake your-" She crossed her arms and turned from him.

"Fine, go at it."

"I wanted to be an Archaeologist." She mumbled.

"What?"

"Someone who studies and digs up bones. You know, like Dinosaurs."

"No, I don't know. And don't care."

She opened and closed her mouth several times before huffing irritably and then scooting away from him. He sighed and put his hand over hers for a second.

"Sorry."

And then he took it away, but not before thinking that it was the first time he had really touched someone in…years.

Hermione:

"I want to show you something."

"What, no smoking today?"

"As charming as it is to sit next to someone and slowly develop lung cancer with them, I was thinking today we could get some fresh air. Together. Maybe."

He hummed in her direction.

"Hmm."

She took his arm firmly and envisioned it in her mind. The sound of the water lapping at itself like a cat; the flowers, which had multiplied since the beginning of spring. Then there was a noise like an airplane taking off and the next thing she could recognize was…sun. The sound of sun, which came through her eyelids and burst out of her skin.

"What…"

He was at a loss for words, and she knew it immediately. Although he was not a very feeling person, she knew he would appreciate this place as much as she did. He had given her a lot the past month, and she wanted to give something back.

Urges like that-towards Malfoy of all people- were becoming stronger the more time she spent with him. They didn't have very long conversations but the silence spoke for them both. It twisted itself around them like a serpent and held on to their clothes long after they each had parted. She had begun to live her life around those moments, barely moving or breathing until she knew he would be there. At their wall…on their floor… in their shade.

"It's a National Park." She said simply.

"Ah." He cleared his throat. It was quiet for a long time. The sun began to dip in the sky, sending shards of color across the fields. "Thank you."

And those words sent so much confidence through her. They told her that, for the first time since before Ron, she had done something right. She hadn't made someone mad or angry or tired and beaten. She had given Malfoy something to be grateful for. She was satisfied.

She slipped her palm into his and let their fingers ghost each other; reflect the owners feelings like a mirror.

And do you know what? He let her keep it there for one, two, three minutes before pulling away and stuffing it in his pocket, a slight smile on his face.

Draco:

"So why didn't you?"

"Why didn't I…?"

"Become an…Archaeologist?"

"Oh." She chewed on her lip and he watched her.

"Never mind. You don't have to-"

"No it's ok because-"

"I didn't mean to…"

"You didn't." She sighed and blew a curl from her face. "I guess…well, I went to Hogwarts. And…and I loved it, I did…but there was always part of me that wondered, what if I didn't get a letter? What university would I be at right now? Would I even still want to deal with bones?"

There was that familiar silence, which had become like a family pet. Loved, spoiled and barging in on all the wrong moments.

"You shouldn't have given up your dreams."

She smiled and turned to him. He watched as the curve of her top lip pulled up and exposed a bit of happy white.

"Going soft on me?"

He shrugged, his mind turning. He felt like a sock that had gone inside out in the wash.

"Just…then you wouldn't be here…you know how much you annoy me."

"Yeah. I know."