Year 5 - Stockholm

Chapter 25

The Great Escape of Hermione Granger

The wind was sharp as it blew. Hermione huddled within her coat, hat and mittens notwithstanding the winter Scottish winds so well. She was frozen solid. As was her mood.

Gryffindor lost the match. Horrendously.

Draco, Goyle and Crabbe walked with her back to the castle and impaired her ability to comfort Ron on his loss. It did lift her spirits to see Lavender waiting below the stands.

It felt as though she was a passerby in her friends' lives. Their happiness with one another carried on with ease in her absence, seemingly forgetting that a part of them was missing. The knife of Draco dug deeper through to her soul. Her face fell. Water filled her eyes. She blamed it on the cold gusts, but it was the boiling well of sadness that seeped through her hardened resolve of self-sacrifice and touched the forgotten interior of an insecure girl with a want to be loved.

She wiped her eyes out when Draco turned his head. The last thing she needed was his bitterness at the loss of her friends. He hated them. The very mention of their names turned his words to daggers, splitting through her flesh.

The further the divide, the more she felt herself lost.

The DA was the only thing that kept them together at all. It was the time when things felt like old times: Ron and Harry by her sides, the Weasley twins poking their fun and Ginny there as a welcome female addition to the sea of testosterone. It was a faint memory that stayed their hearts linked.

If they thought of what happened outside the Room of Requirement, things might not be so cozy comfortable between them.

The entrance to the warmth of the castle was a welcome flood to her lungs. The damp, moist, thick air of Hogwarts rushed through and filled her chest with a spreading heat. It sparked life within her fingers. The sting lessened when she stretched them out.

Draco pulled the winter coat from her shoulders. "Crabbe, Goyle. Circle around."

The beat of her heart went into overdrive. The two goons were never sent away. Ever.

She overlooked her shoulder with panic as their slouched silhouettes retreated. Crabbe gave a silent wave. His eyes just as confused as hers.

The entire week since the Valentines Day brawl was the four of them, constant. Day in and out. Class after class. Every meal. Every waking minute, together. Without the half of them, Hermione felt rather naked and exposed.

Her heart continued it's panicked beat as Draco strolled. He remained close. He never touched her on their walks, but there was a closeness that almost gravitated their hands together. They brushed knuckles, once or twice. Something zapped between them each time.

The silence pressed against her chest heavier. Her heartbeat violently against the crushing cage of her ribs as the eerie quiet stomped down harder and harder. She was unsure how to read it. Was he furious? She appraised his demeanor. It did not look angry. Still, there was something different in his expression. Determined. He did not grimace at the filthy floors wet with murky waters of melted snow. He walked straight through without concern of his hem.

She followed close to his side. As he expected. And she wanted.

The week of his constant company was comfortable. It felt more at home than sitting with Harry and Ron in Gryffindor Tower now. There wasn't question and suspicion amongst their breaths.

Draco had her confidence. Same as she had his.

An alarming thought leapt to mind: Draco was her best friend.