Happy Friday everyone!
I hope you enjoy this next chapter. I have always really loved writing the relationship between Tonks and Draco. Hope you enjoy it too!

Much love as always 3

Chapter Text

Hermione's Point of View

The union must have had a meeting after the debacle with Ginny because an early evening is granted, and no one comes to my room for the rest of the night. I imagine they're discussing the situation, and no one will wander back into my room unless they have their stories straight. Perhaps fear changed hands.

In the shower a despondent, dismayed cloud seems to find its place above me and follows me towards the bed, hanging low. Ginny's admission, however minor had awakened a panic in me. In a house full of people who are keeping information from me, I can understand disallowing information about the current state of England, - or the wizarding world - away from me. Or even about the so called 'mission' Harry, Ron and I had been on for the last year. But information being withheld about Malfoy doesn't truly make any sense. The longer I think about it the more panic squeezes my chest making each inhale shallow and unfulfilling.

I draw my hair into a knotted bun and leave the bathroom in a mess. I don't have the energy to worry about it right now. My stomach protests loudly from not eating the entire day, besides that cup of coffee that Malfoy made me. The cup still sits on the windowsill like it's a relic from another time. One I can't remember.

Every texture in the bed feels raw against my skin and I cast several cleansing charms before I'm able to relax. It feels like it's going to be one of those nights where every little thing bothers me. A part of me almost wants Ginny to come back. Let's start the rotated shifts again so I can hear someone else's rambles besides my own.

I turn over in the bed. It must be late now. Really late because the house is quiet, and the muggles are silent as stone outside. The moon is whole, and it feels like its glow is only shinning into my window. I debate getting up and shutting the curtains, but the task seems too overwhelming presently. Even the thought of turning over in the bed away from the light seems too much. Maybe the nurse had a point. Maybe I shouldn't have asked or tricked Ginny into her admittance. Because I will be the one who suffers in the long term. But my mind is booming with possible scenarios involving Draco Malfoy. How could I know him in a different way than I remember? What could have possibly happened in those missing years that would have brought us closer. What could he have said? What could I have said?

An intrusion silences my thoughts momentarily. The skirting of feet against the landing. I lift my head up away from the head rest to hear better. The hum of movement carries across the landing from close outside my door. I see light beneath my door, peaking in through the opening left after Ginny. It illuminates a small portion of the floor.

The sound gets further away, and I lay my head back down when I realise it's just someone going to use the bathroom. The door screeches closed loudly when they're done, jolting me. The noise carries back toward me as the person shuffles back to their room. I fluff my pillow and lay my head back down, preparing for the noise in my mind to start up again. It's interrupted by my door opening fully. The joints squeaking loudly as the door is pushed abruptly open.

I snap up in the bed, tugging the duvet tight around me as Draco Malfoy saunters into the room. The light from the candles in the hallway is diminished and I can just about make out his face against the moonlight. His eyes are closed or dazed as they're hidden behind his heavy fringe. He drops down into the bed and pulls the pillow towards him and within seconds I can hear his steady, even breathing. He kicks his leg back and it hits against mine. His calf burning hot; I pull my feet away and grip the duvet so tight my knuckles turn white.

What the hell is going on?

The bed dips again as he turns over, facing me, snoring deeply. His hand extends out to grab the duvet and I release it immediately as he pulls it over him. There's not much distance separating us, and I can feel the heat coming off his body. The weight of him slopes the bed and I have to actively angle away to stop myself from rolling towards him. Damn these old beds.

I stare between his resting, calm face, and the dark hallway, visible from the door he left open. There are two many variables here to consider. I can try to lie down and shut my eyes and hope for the best, but I can't leave the bedroom door open. Anyone could pass in the morning and look in and see Draco Malfoy in the bed. But if I shut the door and rotations start in the morning. Do I really want Harry or Ginny or even Ron walking in and see him asleep in my bed. I could leave and go and find another bed, but the house is at its capacity. I know Ron's room is taken and he's sleeping on the couch downstairs because two Aurors in from Nottingham needed a place to rest for the night. I could go into Malfoy's room and stay in his bed but that might raise even more questions.

I stare down at him again and wave my hand in front of his face to see if he's faking. But why would he fake this situation? Why would he want to come into my room in the middle of the night? I call his name gently and then a little louder and his breathing grows quiet for a second.

"Malfoy," I call again, a little louder this time. He brushes his hair away from his eyes as they open faintly. He looks right at me before turning onto his back.

"In the morning, Granger. Shush," he mumbles as I stare dubiously at him. His breathing turns shallow again and he's asleep.

I squeeze the duvet again desperately until my knuckles are white. Eventually when the shock of the situation dials down, I get out of the bed and shut the bedroom door opting to not want to explain to every early riser the situation.

In the complete darkness of the room - only fragments of the bed alight with the moons glow - I stare at his shape against the bed. The slow rise and fall of his bare chest. My left eye waters as a zap soars from my left temple to the back of my head. I touch my fingertips against the stitching in my head that the nurse had done but the pain isn't coming from there. I look towards Malfoy again in the bed and my head zaps once more, a tear dripping off my chin as my eye continues to water. The unfamiliar situation feels almost familiar and that thought alone might be puzzling enough to cause the pain.

Still clutching my head, I climb back into the bed across from Malfoy and lay on my side facing him. It's warm. I trace the line of his chin, nose, and brow with my eyes over and over and the rhythmic movement is soothing. I try to match my breathing to his until they seem the same. I continue tracing his face even when the sky starts to light. But my eyes close fully before the sun can turn its light on two once presumed strangers now sleeping peacefully together in a bed.

Draco's Point of View

Waking is supposed to be peaceful. That's what they say but I've had my fair share of rough awakenings. Todays featuring my arm feeling like it's getting wrenched out of its socket. When I hit the ground, I grasp a leg that's pulled back to kick me in the stomach.

"Ron, what are you doing?" a voice shrieks as I twist the leg that was about to kick me and pull the Weasel onto the ground alongside me. He hits the floor hard, giving me a chance to collect my thoughts and wipe some of the sleep from my eyes. Granger leans over the edge of the bed, holding the duvet tight around her as she looks intently down at us entangled in a heap on the floor. I toss Weasel's legs off me and stare at her.

What the hell is she doing in my room? When I look around, I grasp how wrong I am. I am in our room. Now her room. I don't recant coming in here at all. She explores my eyes for an answer I don't have.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Weasel asks but I hold Grangers eyes, still searching. Is she upset? Would she say if she was upset?

"I sometimes sleepwalk," I say, to give any explanation to her inaudible questions. She nods her head slowly, accepting.

"Get the fuck up, now!" Weasel says, hauling me up under my arm. I curse against the pain and yank my arm free, using the bed as leverage to step up. My weight against the edge causes Grangers weight to disbalance and she comes crashing forward. Her face meeting against my chest to stop her falling over the side of the bed. I hear a gentle yelp from her as she presses against my torso to right herself and her hands feel so warm against my skin. She searches my eyes again and I smile down at her. One that the Weasel can't see. Her confusion proves how unaccustomed she is to my smile.

The Weasel pulls me harshly out of the bedroom and slams the door shut behind us, cutting off Grangers frantic calls. He squeezes hard against my arm, trying to hurt me and I almost laugh against his pathetic strength. I look down at his furious red face and wonder how he could ever think that he would be enough for her. That he would be strong enough to protect her when the time came. He can fight in battles when they are linear and like the stories told. A, B and C and then done. But I could never imagine him fighting a battle that required on the spot decision making. That required spells or counter curses that your opponent didn't know. When C came before B and flipped the map on everything. He is as standard as they come. How can he not see that he could never protect her. They would both die in the process.

I pull my arm away from his grip and ignore the profanity and questions he spits at me. It's a waste of my time to argue with him. It's not why I came here. He's fighting a losing battle here but it's just taking him a while longer to realise that. I shut my bedroom door behind me and lay in the bed. The sheets cold and unwelcoming.

A knock awakens me from a nap I hadn't intended on taking. Tonks inclines her head in the door with a sly grin on her face.

"Want to come into my room?" she asks blushingly.

"No Tonks," I say, rolling over in the bed. I sigh, feeling my stomach grumble loudly.

"I have coffee and fresh pastries," she whispers, and I can hear her smile. I lean up in the bed and she smiles devilishly at me.

"Where's Remus?"

"Don't worry he's off in town with Molly. He won't be back for a while and you could do with being nicer to him," she reasons as I pull on a t-shirt and a pair of socks.

In the hallways I eye Granger's bedroom door and it's still shut. Surely, she's awake properly at this point and somewhere around the house.

"She's downstairs in the kitchen with Ginny," Tonk's informs me. I stare ahead at her and realise she's not even looking at me. She must just assume I wanted to know.

Inside her bedroom she pulls a chair away from the vanity mirror and pats the seat for me to sit down. I look around skeptically waiting for someone or something to jump out and surprise me. She hands me a cup of coffee and slips two croissants towards me and smiles too wide.

"What are you up to?" I ask, absorbing the first croissant in one go and gulping half the coffee down with it, ignoring the burning.

Tonks eyes the vanity behind me and I turn around, noticing there is different types of scissors lined up along it.

"Oh no," I argue, setting the coffee cup down.

"What? I cut Remus's hair all the time and everyone says it looks great."

"Everyone here is a liar!"

"Come on Draco. You look like you've been living in a forest or guarding a bridge against travellers."

"Are you calling me a Troll, Tonks?" I ask and she laughs, moving towards the vanity. She takes a brush and starts combing through my hair that's almost down to my shoulders now. The sensation of someone combing my hair is strange and it feels almost too motherly.

"You want to make an impression on Hermione? Don't you?" she asks smugly, brushing my hair out of my face. She picks up the scissors and starts cutting before I have a chance to argue. I sigh, just allowing it to happen.

"But from what I heard you already made quite to impression already," Tonks says.

"What does that mean?" I ask, turning back to face her but she forces my head back forward again.

"Don't move I don't want to accidently cut your ear off!" she snaps.

"Can't you just use magic?" I ask, tensely brushing my hand over my ear. She swats my hand away.

"No, it'll be nicer this way," she supplies.

"What did you mean? What impression?" I ask, pressing her.

"I just heard that you've been here one day and already you're making an impression," she replies, ambiguously.

"Do you mean the bed thing this morning? To my defence I'm not sure how that happened at all. I must have actually been sleepwalking," I rationalise.

"Oh yes, the accidental I went into the wrong room bit. I heard about that this morning. I'm talking about before that," she says, snipping loudly by my ear as a long piece of hair drops onto my shoulder.

"What else could you possibly have heard? Nothing else happened before that. And who the fuck is talking about me?" I ask, irritably as she pats my shoulder like a mother quieting a fussy child.

"You're hot news around here Draco. Everyone likes to gossip," she laughs lightly.

"What else did you hear?" I ask, not liking the idea of the whole four stories enjoying gossiping about us.

"The coffee," she insinuates.

"Oh that?" I laugh sarcastically.

"I just brought her a coffee afterwards because the sugar helps."

"Hmm," Tonks muses, pulling on my hair a little too hard, but playful.

"What?" I ask, leaning my head down when she pushes it forward.

"See no one here makes Hermione coffee anymore," she starts.

"Okay maybe I went a little bit over with the gesture."

"It wasn't the gesture. We don't make her coffee anymore because she always remakes any cup that's given to her."

"Why?"

"Because none of us ever make it the way she likes it. So, she always thanks us but brings the cup back to the kitchen to make it the way she drinks it."

"And?" I ask confused.

"She didn't do that with the cup you made her. She didn't need to remake it. Because you made it the way she likes it."

"Oh." I hadn't thought of that at all. It didn't even cross my mind when I was making it. I was more concerned with getting out of the kitchen before Molly could engage me in deep conversations.

"Yeah," Tonks says, laughing.

"You know her, and I know her, and that little detail wasn't overlooked. She mentioned it to Ginny."

"What did she say?" I try to turn my head again to look at Tonks, but she holds it steady while she cuts.

"She asked why you would know how she takes her coffee. Apparently, Ginny let slip that you two know one another in a different way than she currently remembers," Tonks explains.

That lends some rationalisation to the way she looked at me this morning and possibly the reason she didn't kick me out of her bed last night. If she in fact had been awake when I entered the room.

"So, she knows that we know one another?" I ask.

"Yes, but Ginny left the room before she could really pry. But she knows that you two know one another contrarily to how you knew it each in Hogwarts."

The sides of my scalp feel cold as Tonks shaves close but leaves the top long, so it falls around my ears. She steps around in front of me and pushes my head back to start on my beard.

"Tonks I can shave my own beard," I argue.

"Not evidently," she says, holding my head steady as she applies thick shaving cream across my mouth. I spit trying to get it out of my mouth, but she just laughs longingly, throwing her own head back easily. It's almost like I wasn't just away for over seven months.

"What do I do here?" I ask, unwillingly. But it's not like I can talk to anyone else in this house or ask their advice.

"Well, this haircut and shave is a good place to start. Not saying that Hermione is vain or anything, but you did look terrible when you showed up here yesterday," she laughs.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I reply.

"Do you need confidence in this situation?" she asks.

"I'm not sure."

"I mean she was in love with you before. She will be in love with you again," Tonk's says and hearing her saying those words, that she was in love with me makes me feel like I'm not crazy. That someone else remember that it happened too. Because everyone else in this place is acting like it never happened. Brushing it under the rug like some mistake they want to forget.

She shaves along my jaw line, cleansing the blade with her wand each time.

"What happened before?" she asks, looking away from me.

"Before?"

"When you left? For France? Did you tell her what I told you," She asks. I turn my head away slightly, reluctant. Ashamed that I had let her down in that situation. One of the people who treated me with respect here.

"I wanted her to come with me. To stay with me but she didn't. Of course. She had to go back to Harry. So, I told her I would stay in France with Blaise and to come find me when she was ready."

"Did you tell her you loved her?" she asks, this time staring straight at me.

"No Tonks, I didn't."

"Why?"

"Because I was a coward," I say simply. I had been. I had been hurt that she was leaving, and I withheld saying it at the last possible point in which I could have.

"What if she had died, Draco? Instead of just losing her memory. What if the curse had been a direct hit and you had never told her?" she asks, shaving my cheek.

"I know," I say, trying to keep my face steady as she shaves. She stops, bending back to read my face.

"Are you going to make that mistake again? We don't let cowards stay here generally," she says, cleaning the blade and setting it down on the vanity.

"I don't plan on making any mistakes like that again."

She wipes at my face with a towel, and I take it from her, cleaning the foam off my face and brushing the hair off my lap and onto the floor. She takes out her wand and the hair disappears, the floor clean again. I turn around and face myself in the mirror.

"Well?" she asks, optimistically. I brush the hair back. Just like it felt the hair is left long on the top and the sides are shaved in carefully. I do look better.

"Thanks," I say, quietly and Tonk's takes this gratitude as an invitation for a hug, binding her arms around me firmly.

"Do you really like it? I think it looks so much better. You look quite dapper!"

"Dapper?" I chuckle.

"Very much so," she replies finally releasing me from her grip.

I lay the towel down on the back of the chair and slide it back towards the vanity. Tonks stares at me like a proud mother and her gleaming happiness is hard to stomach because my own mother has never looked at me like that.

"Tonks?"

"Hmm," she muses, still taking in my new appearance and admiring her work.

"I'm sorry that I let you down too," I say. Her eyes soften.

"You don't have to worry about that Draco. You could never let me down," she admits. Her words find a heavy place in the back of my throat and lodge there. I nod in return.

I grab the second croissant and make my way near the door.

"I'm glad that you're back Draco." She says, smiling at me. I smile back at her once before leaving, stuffing the croissant into my mouth before shutting the door.

"Me too," I whisper.