Snippets
Chapter Twenty-Five
Hermione gapes for a moment at the wizard standing in her doorway. She's not even sure that she has blinked since the moment she opened the door and had revealed the absurdly tall and blonde man to herself.
"Hermione?" Draco asks, his voice soft and less haggard sounding than his last statement. "Please let me in."
Hermione sighs. A part of her wishes that she could be the type of witch who would slam the door in the face of a man who has hurt her– but alas, she is not. That said, Hermione steps back from the door and tips her head, offering Draco her silent permission to enter her home.
Hermione closes the door behind her former friend and turns to face him, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. She comes to the conclusion immediately upon doing so that she is far more hurt by Draco's abrupt disappearance from her life than she had allowed herself to realize prior to his sudden reappearance in her living room.
Of course, Hermione understands that the loss of a spouse is not something that one might feel inclined to relive, and she in no way blames Draco for reacting to his pain– however, that doesn't negate the fact that he also abandoned Hermione when she had most needed a friend.
Hermione thinks that at the end of the day, two things can be true simultaneously. She can intellectually understand why Draco had done what he had done, but she can also still be hurt by that decision.
"I'm sorry, Hermione," Draco says quietly, stepping forward slightly so he is standing directly in front of her.
Hermione scoffs.
"You seem to apologize a lot," Hermione scowls, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at the man before her.
Draco laughs lightly, shaking his head as if in disbelief.
"Only to you," he replies with a smirk, reaching forward and brushing a still-damp curl behind Hermione's ear.
Hermione steps back, ignoring the tingling feeling which sweeps over her cheek in the wake of Draco's fingertips.
"You hurt me, Draco," Hermione states sternly, deciding that she'll be damned if she lets Draco off the hook for ditching her just because he smiles at her. She has never quite been that sort of witch and she doesn't intend on starting today. "You were my friend and you disappeared at the exact moment when I needed my friends."
Draco opens his mouth to speak, but Hermione shoots him a Look which tells him that she is not done.
"I will not presume to know what losing a spouse is like. I cannot imagine the pain that your wife's absence must cause you," Hermione begins, the corner of her mouth turning down at the reminder of Draco's wife's death. "I am genuinely sorry for your loss–"
Hermione stops abruptly when Draco takes a page out of her playbook and rolls his eyes at her. She might've never expected to see such an action from the pinnacle of purebloodedness himself, but there it was.
"Oh, for the love of Merlin, would you stop being such a martyr," Draco hisses, his voice suddenly harsh– much harsher than Hermione has become accustomed to from him in recent months.
"Excuse me?" Hermione questions, her voice rising in register, her frustration mounting quickly.
Draco leans back against the back of the sofa, crossing his legs at the ankles.
"You're hurt. I hurt you. Say that. You're downplaying your own pain out of respect for mine. It's mad– you should be yelling at me for showing up on your doorstep like an arse and instead you're apologizing."
Hermione's face twists in anger as she wonders if this was Draco's actual intention in coming to her flat this evening– to pick a fight.
"Fine," Hermione huffs, narrowing her eyes at Draco. "You're an arse. I trusted you– over Harry, over Ron, over Ginny or Padma, I trusted you to be by my bedside during my treatment, and then the second that it was over, you disappeared."
Hermione feels her body begin to heat with anger as her magic pulses through her veins and the ends of her hair spark faintly, evidence that she's losing a bit of control over her aforementioned magic.
"Then, after weeks of not hearing from you, you showed up at the gala and asked me to dance. You brought me up to your office and talked to me candidly about your wife and what her death meant to you– and then you left!"
Hermione hadn't actually intended to shout at Draco, but she cannot deny that it feels sort of cathartic. It feels good– in a purging or cleansing sort of way.
"And what's worse is that I can't even be angry with you for it! I can't be angry that you left me because you didn't do it selfishly– you did it out of reverence and love for your wife."
Hermione intends to continue in her monologue, but before she can, Draco pushes off of the back of the sofa and comes to stand closely in front of her once more.
"It was absolutely selfish," Draco corrects Hermione, looking down at her with a half-smile on his stupidly handsome face. "I loved Astoria, yes, but I lost her long ago– even before her physical death. I still love her, but not in the sense that I am actively grieving her. She will always have been my wife and the first woman I truly loved, but she is gone."
Draco sighs heavily as his shoulders slump.
"I walked away from you to assuage my own guilt. I was struggling with my own feelings towards you and rather than talk to you about them or ignore them and continue to see you multiple times a week, I walked away."
Draco looks up to the ceiling momentarily as he laughs lightly. Hermione has to physically stop herself from reaching for him to offer comfort.
"Then you showed up at the St. Mungo's gala in that gown and drove me absolutely mental all night– watching you dance with every wizard in the room except for me nearly killed me. I think that that night was perhaps the first time in my entire life that I actively fought against my Slytherin self-preservation instinct."
It begins to dawn on Hermione what Draco is leading up to and she resists the urge to shake her head almost violently. She thinks that there is absolutely no way that Draco Malfoy is standing in her living room, seemingly confessing his feelings for her on the exact evening that she herself had come to terms with her own feelings for him– and had also decided that she would ignore said feelings.
"I thought that I could stay away from you. How hard could it be? I managed it for a decade," Draco questions, presumably rhetorically. "It was impossible. I resorted to checking Daphne's schedule to see when you would be in the office so I could try to catch a glimpse of you from across the department. I almost asked Pansy about you, but I knew that she would never let it go, so I just barely refrained."
Hermione must make a face at the mention of her and Draco's (recently) mutual friend, so he continues in explanation.
"I'm one of Pansy's primary investors. She sends me sketches and photos of her new collections. I recognized your gown as one of hers– and only Pansy Parkinson would've dared to straighten your curls."
Hermione bites her bottom lip at the unintentional reminder of the way that Draco had caressed a strand of her straightened hair prior to leaving his office that night– and the way in which he had said that he prefers the curls.
"The fact of the matter, Hermione, is that I missed you– and if all that I can have is a friendship with you, then I'll be content with that because at least that means that you'll be in my life again."
Hermione knows that in this moment, she has a choice to make. She can accept Draco's offer of friendship… or she can take the leap of faith and take a chance at acting on the feelings which both she and Draco seem to possess for one another.
After a moment of deliberation, Hermione decides on door number two– and rather than responding verbally, Hermione decides to make a bold move. Slowly, she stands up on her toes, giving Draco the opportunity to step back if he wants to. He doesn't.
Hermione places a hand on his shoulder, bracing herself as she continues to lean up and forward. In the same moment, Draco raises his own hands and places them tentatively on Hermione's hips, tugging her just a hair closer to him.
With one final breath, Hermione closes the remaining gap between herself and Draco, cautiously leaning in to press her lips to his. In immediate response, Draco coils his arms fully around her waist, pulling her tight against him as he sighs happily into her kiss.
Draco's fingers bunch the fabric of Hermione's t-shirt up on her back as he fists it with both hands, holding her flush against him– seemingly with all of his might. Hermione slips both of her arms around Draco's neck, tilting her head slightly to deepen their kiss.
Hermione hadn't ever allowed herself to think of what kissing Draco Malfoy might've actually been like, but even if she had, the reality is far better than she thinks she ever could've imagined. His lips are soft, but that's the extent of his softness– his strong arms and hard chest envelop her completely.
Hermione pulls back, but only just. She knows that she would be entirely unopposed to continuing this further, but she feels the need to verify that Draco is on the same page as her in that regard.
"Draco," she breathes, willing her racing heart to stabilize– and failing, but that is neither here nor there.
Draco's fingers dig roughly into her lower back as he cusses quietly under his breath.
"Merlin, Hermione."
Draco dips his head back down and his lips find Hermione's again, this time with more urgency than before. Hermione responds in kind until Draco shifts his attention from Hermione's lips down to the side of her neck as he walks forward until Hermione's back hits the wall beside the hallway which leads to her bedroom.
Hermione tips her head back, allowing Draco further access to a particularly sensitive spot on the left side of her neck which sends a shiver down her spine.
As Draco lifts his head from Hermione's neck, his left hand begins to wander down over Hermione's backside and below to her thigh, lifting her leg and hitching it up on his hip.
Hermione makes eye-contact with Draco, a silent question and answer passing between the pair. Hermione nods first, followed by Draco who then immediately descends back down to crush his lips back to her own.
Hermione breaks the kiss only for a moment to tear her t-shirt up over her head and drop it unceremoniously onto the floor beside them before she returns to her earlier attention. Draco returns her enthusiasm for a handful of moments before leaning away for an inhale. Quickly and breathily, Draco instructs Hermione to 'jump' as Draco aids in winding Hermione's legs tightly around his waist. He shoves Hermione's now-bare back tightly against the wall again before finally kissing her again.
It isn't until Hermione feels Draco's hands move to her bum in order to support her weight that it occurs to her that she thinks that this all feels eerily familiar.
Hermione opens her eyes to the sun streaming in through her bedroom window, still somewhat dim which leads her to believe that it is still the early hours of the morning. She stretches her arms up above her head and arches her back before her eyes seem to fully adjust to wakefulness.
Hermione notices the coolness of her comforter on her bare skin first. Second, is the pleasant soreness in her muscles and between her legs.
Hermione sits up, clutching her comforter to her chest as she remembers how her night had unfolded the night previous. She raises her thumb to her mouth and bites her fingernail in order to hide the kittenish smile which is beginning to take root on her face.
Hermione allows herself a moment to reminisce before she decides to glance to her left where– she hopes– her companion from the night before should be. She deflates considerably when she comes to the realization that he is, in fact, not.
Hermione frowns, an overwhelming sadness flooding through her with swift efficiency. Her evening with Draco had been… unbelievable, to say the very least. She had hoped that there might be a repeat performance in her very near future, but alas, it seems not.
Hermione's gaze lands on a folded piece of parchment on the nightstand on the opposite side of the bed from hers which she reaches for immediately– and her heart sinks when she reads what it says.
There, in black and white, written in the unmistakable, elegant scrawl of one Draco Malfoy reads three words.
I'm sorry, Hermione.
Hi, friends! Happy Tuesday! (:
Well, here it is! Lol. I'm sure that a bunch of you were eagerly awaiting this chapter and I hope it didn't disappoint. (:
In case you missed it, I did upload a Dramione one-shot on this past Friday. At the end of that fic, I wrote in my A/N that I've been taking a break from writing at the minute. I'm just feeling really burned out on writing (and life, tbh) and I need a break. Of course, Snippets is completely finished and uploads will continue as scheduled on Tuesdays. I just don't know how much additional content you will see from me for the time being. There will definitely be no Friday upload this week or for the foreseeable future. Thank you for your understanding in that regard.
As always, thank you so much for spending a bit of your time here with me this week. It truly means more to me than you know. I am so grateful. Please, if you feel so inclined, leave a review. Let me know your thoughts, theories, observations and favorite parts of this chapter or the fic so far. (:
See you again next week.