Disclaimer: In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to JK Rowling, Warner Bros, Bloomsbury Publishing, et cetera, this work of fiction is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work.
A/N: People actually reviewed like I asked? What? Just kidding, I love you all. I'm not sure anyone's figured this out, but most of my Chapters are songs that I listened to the most while writing. 1, 2 & 3 are by The Bravery. 4 is by Augustana. 5 is by The National. 7 is by Sufjan Stevens. 8 is by Regina Spektor. 9 is by Massive Attack. 11 is by The Killers.
Draco:
The coffee was black and in the back of his mind he thought that it would taste even better with a cigarette. He was all out though, and in the haze of asking Hermione to go on a date, he had forgotten to go to the market and buy food. He was forgetting a lot of things lately…
Before he had started meeting with her, he had needed to drink to forget. Now he had been sober for a month and he hadn't felt a longing for liquor like he used to. They met to forget, and it had kept him away from other methods. It was a new feeling, one he hadn't reflected on in months and if anything he was grateful to her for that.
He had no business dating Hermione. Not really. He had no emotions towards her other than lust and even that was fueled by anger and lack of respect. But his fear had been too great and his need for magic again overtook all others of rationalism. He had asked her on a date, and as he stood before his closet, fingering his robes and slacks, he wondered if this was going to go in a direction he didn't care for.
Love.
Hermione:
He slammed the door in her face and she didn't move.
"Harry." She said at a medium volume. He didn't open the door and she rested her forehead on the doorknob. "Harry, please."
There was a creaking outside the door and she knew she had won. She pulled her head up and pretended to pick at lint off her shirt as he opened up quietly.
"Let's get food first."
-X-
"I didn't know Seamus had a pub." She whispered.
"It opened at the end of March." Harry told her calmly, but she could hear the hint of irritation in his voice.
They had stepped out of the rain and ducked into a warm pub that sat on the corner of London. She had almost forgotten about Seamus' dream of opening a pub, which would reflect his hometown in Ireland. She smiled, looking around and realizing how true to it he had stayed.
"Oi, Harry! Hermione! Come 'ere!"
Her head snapped up. Harry gently tugged on her arm and they made their way through a reasonably sized crowd and sat down on two recently empty seats at the bar.
"Seamus!" she cried, and found that she was happy to see him.
"Hermione, hey you insufferable git! Where have you been?"
He walked to the other side of the bar and squeezed her tightly. He smelled like wood polish and beer.
"Doing some work out of London." She lied smoothly and he seemed to take it.
He grinned and released her, moving back to his spot behind the bar. A young man with unruly hair came up and got a pitcher of delicious smelling beer and then walked back to his table.
"What can I get for you two?" he asked and offered menus. Harry shook his head and gave them back.
"Seamus, I'm here at least once a week. I know what I'll have."
"Ah." He smirked. "But the missus over here hasn't been." He made the gesture again but she smiled over at Harry.
"You know actually, I'll have whatever he's having."
"All I want is my usual fish and chips with a side of today's brew."
"You got it, mates."
He walked away with a jaunt in his step that she had never seen before. Curiously, she wondered if she has to leave before everyone's life seemed to start. How much else had she missed?
"I feel so left out." She mumbled.
"Isn't that what you wanted?" he asked in return.
Before she could answer Seamus had come back again and plopped two beers down in front of them. She cradled the glass in her hands before taking a sip that equivocated half of the cup.
"This is great, Seamus. What is it?"
"That, Hermione, is my own special brew. I call it the Firebolt Jolt."
She grinned and remembered him and Harry racing each other in the courtyard after Harry had gotten his Firebolt. He had always been the first to cheer Harry at the Quidditch games, and besides her and Ron was the loudest in the stands.
It had seemed to her that coming back was not as simple as she had planned it to be. As she listened to Seamus chatter on about new marketing for his pub and regular customers with funny accidents and drunken stupors, she wondered how she would have fit into this part of their life. Would she have been there last Friday night with Harry and Ginny as they stumbled out smashed? Or would she have been hiding in her room from Ron as usual?
She had thought she would need to leave to heal, but the warmth that was seeping into her veins was only a third alcohol and an even more an overwhelming portion of friendship. She loved these people, and she had missed laughing with them. She had missed one of her best friends fulfilling his dreams, but more than that she had missed helping him do it.
"Oh, blimey." He smacked his head in mock frustration. "I forgot your food!"
As he disappeared to get their meal she looked at Harry and smiled weakly.
"Not as easy as you thought, is it?"
"But reading me is?"
He shrugged and patted her on the back, making small circles around her shoulders.
"I'm so hungry." He murmured and scratched a spot behind his ear.
Almost as if on queue, Seamus stumbled out and gave them their food. Steam rose up from the crispy fish and she was practically breathing in the grease.
"I'll leave you to it then." He said and left to go make rounds. "Hey, you!..."
Harry was tearing at his fish with his fingers and swallowing with little to no relish. He had always been this way, barely swallowing and stuffing as much as he could, but she felt like it was different. She realized she was used to the careful cutting and chewing that Draco practiced, and though clearly this way had less grace, she found herself smiling. She had missed him…he was such a boy.
She took a bite and it nearly burned the roof of her mouth. The flakes of fish melted on her tongue like butter and slid down her throat with equal ease.
"This is fantastic. Does he make this?"
Harry shook his head and swallowed, wiping his hands on a napkin.
"No, that would be Lavender."
"Lavender?" she shrieked. He shushed her before continuing.
"Yes, Lavender. They've been dating for about a month now but she's always been his chef. They planned this place together."
Her mouth hung agape and she put her hand over her mouth to stop herself from saying anything unkind.
"I'm just so…why didn't anyone tell me this?"
"You didn't tell us where you were, Hermione."
Silence. Chewing. Swallowing.
"I'm sorry."
"I know you are."
When she ate with Draco they were silent. Food was the closest thing he had to religion and he made that clear by not responding lengthily to her every time she tried to make conversation.
Harry, however, talked nonstop, sometimes while still chewing. This comfort they had around each other was enormously endearing and she felt a rush of affection for him.
They each had another beer and then they paid and left.
-X-
"This one."
Harry pulled a dress off the rack and handed it to her. The material slipped over her hands and she frowned.
"This isn't really my style, Harry."
He shrugged and pushed her into the curtained dressing room.
"That's the point."
She struggled to pull the dress up over her thighs. She had been filling out this past month and found that things fit her more comfortably.
"It looks like something Ginny would wear." She marveled.
She didn't dare look in the mirror. She could already tell it wasn't her style.
"Come out. Let me see." She did and he let his face remain motionless.
Mumbling, he went off to look for another dress and she went back into the room again to look at herself. The dress fit her in some areas but in others it was too tight. She found herself a bit sad; the dress was a beautiful style and color. She felt so ugly and bloated all of a sudden and practically tore the dress off in order to not see it any longer. She stared at herself, in only her bra and panties.
"Hey, Hermione. Try this one."
A dress pushed through the folds of the curtain and she grabbed onto it.
"It's so…" It was a light pink dress with very round black dots covering it all the way around. It clung tight on top and fell loosely from her waist to her knees where it ended with a lacy hem. "Simple."
She stepped out and let the curtain fall behind her. Nervously, she patted the dress down, trying to stretch it to reach past her knees.
Harry didn't say anything, considering her appearance quietly. She fidgeted in his gaze, blushing and eventually turning away.
"Let's pick another one, shall we?"
"No."
She turned and bit her bottom lip. She wanted to look beautiful but she didn't feel like it.
"No?"
"No. This one is perfect."
-X-
"Let's order pizza."
She turned her head lazily towards Harry and smiled. Pizza sounded wonderful. Absentmindedly he picked up the phone she had forced him to buy when her and Ron got one and dialed for pizza.
"Pepperoni and sausage?" he mouthed silently at her and when she nodded he ordered a large pizza for them both.
When it arrived he insisted on paying and they curled up on his couch, eating piece after piece while watching Jersey Shore and laughing together. It was just like old times except she wanted to cry because if it were really like old times, then Ron would be here too. It would never be like old times.
"Hermione?"
"Hmm." She closed her eyes and sighed happily. She was full and warm and happy.
"Don't go back."
Her eyes opened and she sat up, wrapping her arms around her knees.
"Ok."
Draco:
He decided on his nice black slacks and a gray and purple striped button down. No tie, too pretentious. He pulled on his black dress shoes and then slicked back his hair. It had grown to his shoulders now and could easily be worn down but he wasn't sure if she liked it that way, and tonight wasn't the night for experimentation.
She was to apparate at his house in fifteen minutes. Satisfied that he was ready he reflected on the way to walk over to the restaurant and on the exact time of their reservation.
He picked up a book and thumbed through the pages.
The seat was comfortable. He closed his eyes.
His watch read that she was five minutes late. Hermione was never late to anything, not even times they planned on fucking.
He stood and stretched. Being fifteen minutes late was nothing. It still gave him plenty of time to get them to their reservations on time.
Thirty minutes late. He wished he could apparate to her place and see what was taking her so long.
An hour. She wasn't coming.
He started to unbutton his shirt and get ready for bed.
Hermione:
The sweet aroma of coffee wafted to her and for a moment she wondered if no time had passed and she was still in her flat, getting ready for breakfast before work. But she opened her eyes and she was in Hurry's apartment, as she had been for a week now, with no job and no clue what to do.
"Do you think he'll be mad?"
Harry slid a cup to her across the table and she filled it to the top.
"Honestly, the Malfoy I know wouldn't even look at you, much less ask you on a date. So I can't really tell you what he'll do considering that you bailed."
"Cream?" he passed her half and half and she looked at it until her eyes crossed.
"Draco hates cream…" she whispered and her chair clattered to the floor as she cracked out.
Draco:
He poured himself a cup of coffee and stared into the black abyss. The feelings swimming around in his head were confusing and unnerving, to say the least. He wasn't angry until he woke up the next day and she hadn't contacted him. Then the next day passed and the next day and the next and it was that week all over again; he didn't know where she was and while the last time he hadn't had a right to know where she was, this time he did. This time he had lost something by her being gone.
He wasn't her boyfriend. He wasn't her lover. But damnit, he had made reservations and canceling them was a feeling of embarrassment that he never wanted to experience again.
He opened his fridge to get an orange and sitting there, on the top shelf in the back corner next to his milk and eggs, was a small container of creamer. He picked it up and shut the door. It was cold in his hands as he turned it around and around, trying to remember when he had bought it. He hated creamer; he had never used it in his coffee.
But Hermione did; she loaded her cup to the top with the shit.
He popped it open and poured some in. His coffee turned into a milky brown color and he was wary to try it.
"Hey."
He turned around and a little coffee sloshed on the ground. He hadn't heard her apparate in and cursed himself again for not setting up wards when he had the chance. When he still had magic.
She was beautiful and he hated to admit it. She had tamed her curls somehow and pulled half up behind her ears. Her pink and black spotted dress matched her creamy skin and for once she was wearing makeup, done sophisticatedly and lightly to bring out her best features.
"Am I too late for our date?"
-X-
He didn't know any place that would take them last minute. As he pulled on the outfit he had previously planned out, he tried to think of somewhere-anywhere that was open for this occasion.
He slipped into the bathroom and pulled out his oil. He slipped some through his fingers and touched them to his temple. A smaller hand reached out and stopped him.
"Leave it."
She turned on the sink and he held his hands under, watching the oil slide down the drain. She reached up on her toes and ran her fingers through his hair, pulling and sliding and grabbing. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the feeling that swept through his every limb.
"Stop." He gently removed her hands and walked away, turning off the light and leaving her in the dark.
Hermione:
"Draco." She hissed and pulled on his arm. "Draco please." She dug her heels on the ground and he simply turned around, picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.
"Be quiet. You'll wake up the dogs."
"The DOGS?"
"I'll put something over your mouth, don't think I won't."
She was quiet but in her head she wondered how much he could see of her from this angle, considering how short her dress was.
Draco opened a door swiftly, putting his foot behind it to keep it from swinging and clattering. No alarms went off and he put her down.
"Hungry?" he smiled.
It was dark and it took her eyes a while to adjust. When she finally came to she saw that she was in a bakery. The smell of bread and cakes, icing and sprinkles surrounded her. She looked at him in surprise and he just shrugged.
"What…how…"
"Shh."
He moved to a display and slid the glass over. Without looking back at her he gestured for her to come over.
Tentatively, as if she might set off an invisible trigger, she tiptoed over to his side. He handed her a cupcake. It was small and had little white sprinkles on it.
"Take a bite." He urged but she shook her head and handed it back to him.
"Draco, I can't. This is…stealing."
He grinned up at her and peeled back the paper, taking a bite. He stood and moved very close to her.
"It's not stealing…it's borrowing."
"Oh, so you intend to return that cupcake?"
"Don't put it past me."
He peeled more paper off and put it to her lips.
"You know what your problem is, Granger?" he didn't wait for her to answer before whispering in her ear softly. "You don't let yourself do what you want."
"I-"
"Eat the cupcake."
She bit down and chewed. It was sweet and she licked her lips, getting off icing that had stubbornly stuck.
"It's-"
"You missed some." He murmured and kissed her.
His tongue ran smoothly over her bottom lip and he bit on the center as he pulled away. She gasped and smiled.
"…sweet." She finished and touched her lip.
-X-
In the end, four cupcakes were missing from the display and two slices were unevenly cut from what appeared to be a newly made vanilla cake. Hermione had wanted the carrot cake, but Draco had cut her a slice before she could argue and she found that she didn't mind letting him win sometimes.
He took her back to Madge's place and they paused outside the door.
"This is weird." She admitted and he nodded in agreement.
"It is."
"Do I go in now?"
He kissed her softly and lingered near her cheek.
"Yes."
"Do we do this again?"
He was silent for a moment and then as he walked down the stairs and away from the house he told her, "Maybe."
Draco
His sheets were cool that night and slid over his body effortlessly. The texture reminded him of her dress and he smiled at remembering how nice she looked. He wondered if he did ok, and if she was lying in her bed smiling about him as well.
It was weird to think of her in this way. Though they called each other different names, they were still the people that they were. He couldn't ignore the thoughts in the back of his mind that he sometimes thought when he saw her. The bushy hair, the crooked teeth and that annoying sense of arrogance and knowing everything.
But none of that was here anymore, appearance wise. He asked himself daily if he only tolerated her because she was decent looking and shockingly, the answer was only sometimes yes.
Sleep, mind.
And so he did.
Hermione:
She knew Harry wouldn't mind her dipping out, and somewhere in the recesses of her mind she trusted herself that this was not running away, this time.
She remembered Seamus' pub and the smile that had split his face when he saw her; how Lavender had found peace with him. She didn't want to lose out on any more moments with any of her friends.
She missed Ginny, and the silly things they did like braiding hair and painting toenails. She wished she could have found time to see her, and then-how could I not have noticed? -She wondered why Ginny hadn't stopped by Harry's at all in a week.
She shut her mind, refusing to believe the worst.
Tonight, she was…happy? It had seemed so long since she had done this. Dressed up to go out with someone who wanted her company and then came home tired, stripping off her clothes.
Ron had never allowed that. He had stayed with her, usually the one to strip the clothes from her reluctant body. Ron was dependant on others, and she had tried for so long to not be that way.
Draco allowed her independence. He didn't linger, and she liked that. Lingering confused her.
She willed herself to sleep and finally she did.
Draco:
He pulled the cigarette from between her teeth and took a long drag. Ashes crumbled to his feet and he closed his eyes. The whole world was changing right before him and he couldn't bear it.
"Draco?"
"Mmm."
"I love you."
His eyes snapped open and he was heaving heavily. The room was spinning so he blinked a couple times to get it still.
"A dream, it was only a dream."
He kept shaking his head as if she might appear at any second and say those three words for real. His heart slowed in his chest until he finally leaned back and fell asleep.
-X-
"I can't…stop taking that from me, I want to try."
Reluctantly he handed her the spoon again and she stirred the contents of the pot a little too harshly. Clumps stuck to the wooden material and she jabbed angrily at the metal until it fell off again. Draco winced, reaching his hand out as a reflex and then let it fall to his side again.
She moved to the pot next to the bigger one and stirred what was inside. Aromas hit his nose and he wanted so badly to be the one cooking.
He had never relinquished control before and it made him a wreck. He was dominant in most things that they did; smoking, fucking, leaving. But this was the unspoken rule: He always cooked. She was rubbish at it, so really it shouldn't have been a problem. But there she stood in front of him, holding all the utensils and making spaghetti like her life depended on it.
"Draco, relax." She smiled brightly at him and he felt his hands unclench.
"I just-"
"I'm not going to ruin your dinner."
He exhaled loudly and slumped in a chair near the table. Watching her was making it harder but he tried to focus instead on the ticking of the clock and the sound her shoes made as she walked back and forth between pots.
"Don't let it stick to the-"
"I won't."
He stood and then sat again, this time breathing in and holding his breath until his lungs felt like they were about to explode.
"Done."
He got up and pulled out dishes, setting the table silently. She brought the pot over and handed it to him. He gave them equal amounts and then she drizzled sauce lightly over it.
They sat across from each other so she could watch his expression.
He liked to think he would have done better, but he had to give it to her, she did pretty well. He opened his mouth to tell her and found that her eyes were red.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
Her mouth trembled and she put her hand to her chin; she always did that when she didn't want to cry. He reached across the table and took her hand but she pulled back.
"My mum…you know, she used to make me…"
He remembered her talking about her Mum and recipes…how the meal was sentimental. He shut his eyes, not ready to deal with emotions over food. But somehow, by crossing the line and taking her on a date, he had somehow turned dealing with emotions into a responsibility. Something he was liable for.
"Uhm." He cleared his throat. She was wiping a tear from her chin. "You know, parent's never really leave us."
"I can't talk about this."
"Ok."
He made sure to eat as much as she did until it was gone, and then they cleaned side-by-side, tears occasionally slipping down her face and into the water.
-X-
"Are you leaving?"
She pulled her shirt over her head and pushed hair behind her ears. She looked at him quizzically and blinked.
"What? Yes…I mean, I think…"
"Oh."
She stood there, pants unbuttoned and arms crossed. She looked so vulnerable and for some reason he had a thought, a wish and wanted to express it.
"I think I'll ju-"
"I can't fall asleep. Uhm…I mean you should stay and keep me company. Unless you have plans."
He regretted it as soon as he said it. He hoped she would ignore him and keep moving. Instead she pulled off her pants and climbed in bed next to him. She sat for a minute, clearly uncomfortable but then, his heart beating loudly, she fell back and rested her cheek on the crook between his collar and shoulder.
She fit there. That had never happened to him before. Then again, he had never invited anyone to stay the night before either. All the same, he liked how her hair felt against his skin, and the sensation of her short little breaths.
She fell asleep quickly but, although it was a lie, he found that he could not in fact fall asleep. He didn't fall asleep at all.
-X-
"That's mine."
Hermione gave a noncommittal hum and slipped the hot pocket in cardboard. She took a bite and he watched her make a face as it burned.
"Ouch. You put it in for too long."
"That's how I like it!" he said, exasperated.
"Draco, just make a new one. You have three boxes of hot pockets."
"I wanted that one."
She sighed and took another, smaller bite.
"Don't be so dramatic. Seriously, there is two more pepperoni ones left."
"But I wanted that one."
"What's the difference?"
Silence. He couldn't think of why, he just didn't like that she had reached in the microwave and taken it for herself.
"Look, I bought that one. That's the difference."
"Since when haven't you shared?"
"Since I wanted the hot pocket and you took it from me."
"Draco." She seethed and he almost gave up. Almost.
"It's mine. It-"
She threw it at him, with good aim and it hit him square in the face. He didn't make any emotions but simply picked it up from the table where it had bounced and took a bite over her already present bite marks.
"This is really good, thanks honey."
She stormed off into his room and slammed the door.
"That's mine too!"
-X-
"Granger, turn that shit off."
"I see you driving 'round town with the girl I love and I'm like-fuck you! I guess the change in my pocket wasn't enough, I'm like fuck you and uhh fuck her too!"
"Stop singing. Right now."
"Said if I were richer, I'd still be with her!"
"Stop. Stop. Stop." He held his hands over his ears and burrowed in the covers.
She turned the music emitting from the alarm clock near the bed and stood up.
"Don't even think about it." He growled.
She didn't listen and started jumping up and down, creating bounces and jerky movements. She sang loudly-and poorly, raising the volume whenever he protested.
"Why did you bring that contraption into my house?"
She got down on her knees and rubbed her face and hands all over him, squealing happily and tickling him. He tried to resist but her happiness was contagious. He grinned up at her and caught her lip in between his. She stopped squirming and relaxed in his arms. It was peaceful.
-X-
The changes were subtle and barely noticeable. She stayed over that first night, and then every night following it. It had been hard to change his sleeping routine from curling on his side to lying on his back, but she curled into him so nicely that he found it was worth it.
Another change that happened unexpectedly was July turning in August without them even realizing it. Time was passing and although they hadn't been on another date since their first, they talked about the possibilities all the time.
"We could go to that place! The one that…the one with the, uh…"
"The aquarium. You wanted to see the aquarium."
"Yes! The aquarium." She squeezed his hand and continued walking.
One day she came over and he noticed the change immediately. Her hair was shorter, touching the middle of her neck and curling in a more focused way. He liked it and told her so without much consideration, but she seemed to like that he found it pleasing. It was as if she had done it just for him. He hadn't even mentioned that he liked girls with shorter hair more-she just knew.
Another day, while he was lying outside to cool off, she had come out to join him and yanked off her shirt, revealing a bright blue bikini. She had proceeded to throw a cup of water on him and then run away, repeating it until he got up and chased her around the house with a glass of his own.
Some changes were quiet; sitting side by side on his back patio and watching the water move evenly around its course. They drank tall cups of wine and she read until it was too dark. Sometimes they fell asleep out there and woke up with dew on their eyelashes. Those changes he didn't mind. Liked even.
But the changes he found most surprising were the ones that took place in himself. He had been sober for two months now; he was less angry and more awake. He didn't mind her company as much as he used to and he shared the cooking with her.
All was well.
Hermione:
There was a feeling in the pit of her stomach. She was lying on her back in Draco's bed and she felt it come on before they started fooling around. Afterwards he rolled off her and tried to pull her into a cuddle but she resisted, claiming she was too hot. The feeling felt like the rolling of a fan cooling skin. Her sweat stuck to her in clumps and she pushed down, slicking it in unwanted places.
He got her a drink of water but she only took a sip before throwing it on herself instead. She felt unwell but couldn't move. Water rolled off her chin and down her arms.
Something is not right. Something does not fit.
She jumped up and moved to the side, clutching at herself and hoping she wouldn't vomit.
"What's wrong? Hermione?"
He got out of bed groggily and touched her forehead. She could feel him pull back sweat on his fingers.
"Leave me alone."
"What?"
"Go the fuck away."
And then she could feel him grow angry. He grabbed her arms and searched her face for something he'd never find. She wouldn't let him. She shut him out and looked for her clothes.
"I want to leave."
"Then go."
He shoved her clothes at her and motioned to the door. She dressed quickly and then stood, shaking, unable to leave.
"What's the fucking matter with you? Are you sick?" She nodded and shivered. "Do you…what do you need?"
"My mum."
His face softened and he enveloped her in his arms.
"She's not here."
She cried then and felt awful for doing so. It was too hot for tears-too hot for any of this. But he stood there until their sweat and her tears mixed together.
"I need to tell her…I have to…She…"
"I know." He smoothed her short hair beneath his hands. "I know."
-X-
"If you want to jump, I won't stop you."
They were at the cliffs again and Draco stood behind her, close enough that she could hear him breathing but far enough that he couldn't catch her if she lept.
"You…you won't…good."
"Just tell me why."
She turned around and frowned at him, feeling her forehead bunch up in exhaustion.
"I can't."
"Yes you can."
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying her hardest to not see him behind her eyelids.
"You don't understand. I'm so…"
He took a step closer to her and she couldn't breathe. She was so vulnerable and he wasn't leaving. She…didn't want him to.
"Hermione." He whispered and her heart clenched. "I've changed my mind. I want you to stay."
She felt her eyes water and she doesn't want to cry so she tilts her head back and looks at the sky. It's a light day, too light to hold her feelings.
"Why?"
"Because I care about you."
She glanced at him and a tear escaped from the corner of her eye. He brushed it away with his thumb.
"You do?"
"I do."
-X-
It had taken getting used to but Hermione found that she liked sleeping with Draco in the other sense of the word almost as much as she liked fucking him. The first night that he had reached out and asked her to stay she had been wary of if it would be good for them both, but soon she was there every night and then, it was August and she was faced with a difficult decision. She left Draco a note on the kitchen table, scribbled in her tight scrawl.
At Madge's place, she put the best clothes she owned on, which ended up being a gray skirt and a white button down. She tightened her hair in a bun and smoothed the curls into place. She looked respectable, but the decision she was about to make was almost too difficult to bear.
She went to Harry's first. They talked for what seemed like hours and finally she hugged him and apparated over to her own apartment.
She ran her fingers delicately over every surface. Her eyes swept every cabinet and wrinkle in her bed. She remembered the day she first got the place, right after her parents died, and she was so sure that she could handle living on her own. And she could. She had bought cheap, mismatching dishes and placed the sugar bowl on the highest shelf. She had made sure to clean every Sunday morning, right after her cup of coffee.
Her hands were sluggish as she packed her coffee maker away. She struggled not to cry as she pulled her duvet off the bed and folded it. Dust coated countertops and she left her fingerprints in the layers.
Then she stepped back and looked around her. It was like that first day, except this time she was leaving. This time she wasn't certain things would be ok. She only knew this was what she had to do.
Harry popped in and helped her apparate it all into his personal storage room. He handed her the key and hugged her.
"This is what you want?"
She tightened her fist around the key and felt the edges dig into her palm. She looked at the empty apartment and nodded. It felt so wrong but she would never be able to let go of the past with a life still waiting for her here.
"This is what I need."
Draco:
It might have been a dream, but he was lying on his side when he thought he heard her come in. The door creaked and her feet made light taps on the ground. The bed squeaked slightly under her weight and there was a small chill coming from her body as if she had walked there, instead of popping in. She's even colder when she slides under the sheets. Then he knows it is not a dream.
Her arms wrap around his shoulders and she cradles him in a position they've never tried before. He keeps his muscles relaxed and acts like he doesn't notice the difference of her being there and her not being there as much as he does.
"Are you awake?" her breath…it… "Draco?"
He rolls over and catches her face in his hands. He kisses her and parts her lips with his tongue. He isn't dreaming, absolutely not, because he recognizes the taste immediately. Whiskey.
"You're drunk." He rolls over again and yawns. Drunken sex is boring, and he isn't in the mood to be bored.
"No 'm not." She slurs and he groans.
"Sleep it off, ok Granger?" He folds into himself and tries to close his eyes but he isn't tired.
She gets out of bed and he listens to her walk out and then into the bathroom. In her absence, he is a little concerned. No noise comes from the bathroom and finally he gets out, worried she hit her head on the toilet or slipped near the tub.
"Granger, are you ok?"
He looks in the bathroom and she's curled up under the sink. She looks up at him and he can see that she's not as drunk as he made her out to be. Those toffee colored eyes are still bright; her mind is still at work.
He kneels down beside her and he would rather be anywhere in the world but here. Because no matter how intimate they have been in the past, this feels too intimate.
"What's wrong?" he manages to get out, finally.
"Everything everything everything everything-"
And he holds her because he doesn't know what else to do. And he realizes, though they've spent nearly every day together for almost three months he hardly knows Hermione Granger at all.