Eight

Hermione looked up at him, a little uncertainly.

"You were in the entrance hall just now."

It wasn't really a question so Draco figured he didn't need to answer.

"And then you were gone before I could talk to you. So I thought I'd come up here."

He still hadn't moved from his place in the doorway, one hand still on the door handle, the other gripping that tumbler of Firewhiskey he now wished he'd downed before opening the door.

"Can I come in?"

She looked so certain he'd say no, she had already started to turn away when he finally stepped out of the doorway, holding the door open for her. The relief on her face made his heart skip a beat.

"How have you been?" she asked, taking a seat on his sofa.

Draco offered her the Firewhiskey he so desperately wanted himself and poured another drink for him. He shrugged in answer to her question.

"Not sure what to say to that just yet. It was… It was a bit of a shock, to be honest. I haven't quite figured out what it means exactly."

Hermione nodded in understanding, sipped her Firewhiskey and pulled a face.

"I have wine somewhere, if you prefer that," Draco offered, but Hermione shook her head.

"It's just that first sip that always gets me. It's fine."

They sat in uncomfortable silence. Draco wondered why she had come, but wasn't sure how to ask that without sounding rude.

"You weren't at dinner tonight," he observed instead.

"Harry and Ron turned up unexpectedly and took me to Hogsmeade. It wasn't a totally happy reunion. Can I have some more of this?" She held out her glass and gestured towards the bottle. Draco obliged and sat down on the sofa next to her, the bottle placed on an end table within easy reach. Though he was burning with curiosity, he did not ask why the reunion had not been that happy. He hoped she'd tell him anyway, and he wasn't disappointed.

"It went alright at first, you know. I was happy to see them. They were happy to see me. We were walking towards Hogsmeade and I told them about working as a teacher and they told me about their Auror work, but that's when I noticed things had changed. They weren't that interested in my stories, and I didn't really care about them chasing Dark wizards to the middle of nowhere. And things got a bit strained from there on." She wiggled her glass to ask for another refill. Draco hesitated, but figured that in the worst case he could always give her some Hangover Potion before she left. He always had that ready. The amount of alcohol consumed by Hogwarts faculty would surprise even the most liberal minds.

"Then they started nagging about me spending the holidays with the Weasleys, and they just wouldn't let off, and it was so annoying. I just turned around and came back here. Never even got to eat." She sighed, downed the third refill and leaned back in the sofa. Her head came to rest on Draco's shoulder. Draco was suddenly surrounded by a cloud of roses and freesias. Some of her unruly hair tickled his cheek but he dared not move. She snuggled into him.

"I just didn't want to spend Christmas listening to Molly trying to pressure me into getting back with Ron."

"I see," Draco said in a slightly breathless voice. It was very difficult to relax when Hermione hugged his arm to her chest and let her nose rest against his collarbone. He tried desperately of something to say, but all his brain could focus on was Hermione pressing into his side. Until she spoke again.

"I'm sorry I made you cry today."

Draco drew a sharp breath.

"That's okay. I'm glad you told me about… about all that."

Hermione nodded against him, her hair tickling the underside of his jaw and the sensitive spot behind his ear. Goosebumps erupted all over his body.

"I like you," she said. "Don't wanna make you cry."

Draco blinked in surprise. The whiskey had clearly gone straight to her head, but wasn't there a Muggle saying about drunk minds and sober hearts? When her hand reached for the bottle of Firewhiskey, he stopped her.

"Maybe you should eat something before you drink any more," he said. She shrugged and turned in her seat, settling his arm around her shoulders and leaning her back against him. There was now even more hair that seemed to assault his face and neck. He still didn't mind.

"Too tired," she said. "Tiring day."

"Maybe sleep a little then," he suggested. He couldn't see her smile, but her body grew heavy against his and her breath became shallow. Draco leaned his head back and stared up at the ceiling. The scent of roses and freesias still surrounded him. He didn't ever want it to leave. That was disturbing.