Healing the Heart (Dramione)

11|| The Very Last of Autumn

Hermione spent the rest of the morning walking around London, window shopping, sitting on park benches, doing absolutely nothing at all. She enjoyed spending time alone with her thoughts while aimlessly wandering the streets. Before she knew it, she had walked her way to Draco's flat. Tapping her knuckles on the door, she took a step back and shoved her hands into her pockets.

"Hermione?" Blaise opened the door with a confused look on his face. Blaise had been relatively civil towards Hermione at Hogwarts. They had never been friends but neither had they been openly nasty towards each other. Unlike Draco, Blaise hadn't been caught up in the Death Eater business and thus didn't have a punishment when the war ended. The two had reconnected one day over a cup of coffee when he ran into she and Luna on the street. After a few more awkward conversations and cups of coffee, they had become rather decent friends, something Ron never approved of. "Can I help you?" He was in a pair of dark jeans and a light grey sweater.

"Hi, Blaise. Um," She rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. "is Draco home?"

"Yeah, come on in." He stepped back as she walked through the doorway. Their flat was larger than her own, with two couches and an arm chair in front of a small fireplace, two bedrooms, and a full kitchen. She'd been here a couple times before but never on a friendly visit. Draco walked down the hall when he heard his name, a matching confused expression on his face.

"Granger, is something wrong?" He too had on a pair of dark jeans and was donning a green button-up shirt.

"Granger?" She offered a half smile. "What happened to Hermione?" Her light joke fell slightly flat as she forced a laugh.

"Sorry, old habits die hard. Is there something you need?" His eyes took a concerned edge.

"Oh." She looked at the floor and scuffed her toe against the tile suddenly reconsidering being here "I was just in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by. See if you wanted to go for a walk. Both of you." She looked at Blaise.

"Yes!" Blaise was already half way down the hall. "Let me grab my shoes."

"You were in the neighborhood?" Draco walked closer to her and ducked his head so he could see her downturned face. "Are you alright?" Her eyes we no longer puffy, her nose only slightly pink from the cold. She truly did seem better than she did the other night.

"I actually am." She said honestly. "Really. I'm doing much better."

"Well you certainly don't look as bad as you did the other day, but we're going to stay away from bars and any stores that sell alcohol. Just to be safe." He winked, grabbed his wand from the kitchen table, and threw a coat around his shoulders. "Where are we walking to?"

"I'm ready!" Blaise slid into the kitchen with his hands in the air. "Let's go!"

"I just thought we'd walk around. Anywhere."

"Sounds great to me. Come on, Draco."

Hermione smiled at Blaise's enthusiasm and hooked her arm through his. She looked expectantly up at Draco. "Are you coming?" She offered up her other arm to which Draco rolled his eyes and opened the door. Blaise let out a triumphant hoot.

"Come on," He took Hermione's arm and dragged them through the door.

The air was just starting to turn cold as the last days of Autumn vanished into Winter. Draco's hands were shoved deep in his pockets, his shoulders hunched slightly, trying to ward off the breeze. He didn't mind the chilly air, he never had, but wind was different. Even the lightest of breezes on a cold day could go straight through you, freezing your bones and stealing your breath. With the very last days of autumn fading into winter, the temperature was beginning to drop and turn bitter.

People bustled around on the streets, hurrying about their day and it wasn't long before Blaise got tired of walking and turned to complaining. "It's too cold to be outside, can't we stop inside for a drink?" He tugged on Hermione's arm as he whined to Draco.

"No."

"Sure." Hermione steered them towards a nearby bar.

Draco held her back when they reached the front door. "I think maybe you shouldn't be drinking right now." He muttered so Blaise couldn't hear.

"I already told you that I was doing fine. Anyways, I'll just have a butterbeer." She remarked innocently.

He leveled her with a look. "They don't serve butterbeer here."

"Then I'll just have tea."

"They don't serve tea here." His eyes narrowed.

She placed a hand on his arm. "Don't worry. I am feeling much better, I promise. Anyway, I have you here to keep me from drinking too much." Sending him a wink, she walked through the door.

"Drinking at all." He stalked after her. "You're not drinking anything."

~~~

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"Why don't you cover it up?" The intensity in his eyes betrayed his gentle tone.

Her eyes drifted to her left arm for a moment. "It's part of me, who I am. Why should I hide it?" She looked up at him. "Scars tell stories. Injuries you've survived, your past. They're memories of a difficult time. Why should you hide something that's made you stronger?" Goosepimples raised as she brushed the pads of her fingers over his faded Mark, now a scar. "I'm not ashamed of my scars." She brought her arm to rest beside his, palm facing up. The white scar stood out harshly against her tanned skin. "No one should be."