The Sweetest Downfall

Fire and Ice

On the Friday night before her twentyfifth birthday, Draco pulled out a package with shiny, silver wrappings from his pocket as they were getting ready to depart her office. She had not assumed it was for her until he cleared his throat and distantly handed it to her. She released the handle of her door and, with his exact hesitance, she took it from him. Before she could question why he'd gotten her a gift, he commanded her to open it. So, curiously, she did. The silver wrappings were hiding a withered copy of A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. She spent a good few minutes gaping at the book before she heard him say, 'you mentioned your father used to read it to you when you were younger. I thought you might like it.'

It might have been the lack of sleep, the awful British weather settling in, or the fact that she was nowhere near looking forward to her birthday, that caused her to embrace him. She clutched onto the book, but still managed to throw her arms around his neck and pull Malfoy close. She rested her cheek against his chest, breathing in his minty scent and feeling his heartbeat, and closed her eyes. She could feel the stiffness of his shoulders, his arms rigid at his sides, but for the moment she did not care that they didn't have that type of friendship. After a second, or maybe an hour later, she began to pull away, but he reeled her back in. Malfoy captured her lips and stole a kiss from her. Everything inside her roared to life, so she dropped his gift and used her hands to pull on his clothes as they fell against the floor of her office.

She could not say that she heavily regretted sleeping with Malfoy the moment they redressed. When Monday came, she did not sneak around the Auror Department or avoid him; she was a grown woman and knew exactly what she'd done. She treated him as always, but when it was time to Floo home that night, she grabbed the front of his robes and took him home with her. He never once complained.

It had been two years and something since her...thing with Malfoy started. During that time, unspoken rules were formed that neither questioned or attempted to break. They handled their work professionally, and what happened after they clocked out was solely their business. They never mentioned their arrangement to anyone else, nor were they allowed to. It was only about them until they saw fit to end it.

Despite knowing that there was a line that should not be crossed, a line the separated hooking-up and asking for more, Hermione fell for Malfoy. And she fell hard, deep, and painfully (but she enjoyed the way down, nonetheless). She couldn't give an exact point in time, but the unmistakable longing for him gave it away. She not only craved his body, but his time and attention. She missed him on the days she didn't get to see him, and even the nights after a long day together. All she wanted, all she looked forward to, was to be in his arms and wish the world away. And that's exactly what she truly hoped for: a world of her own where only her and Malfoy existed.

Naturally, she couldn't exactly tell him about her feelings. They had agreed, in a silent way, that they'd just be hooking-up whenever they desired it. The idea of genuinely liking each other, let alone exclusively dating one another, went out the window the first night they kissed. It was impossible for something serious and pure to transpire between them, and they knew that. However, in the two years that they were casually sleeping with one another, neither engaged in monogamous relationships. (And Hermione wanted to believe that was for a reason). She declined various offers, or crushed the potential with someone after the second or third date. Unconsciously, she'd known that no one could really give her what she felt in Malfoy's arms. He, on the other hand, dated here and there, but, alike her, that lasted one or two dates. Why he never formally was in a relationship, Hermione would never know. Malfoy didn't necessarily open up about his love life, so she was left guessing and wishing.

Oh, and how she wished...

"Hermione, your order is here."

Blinking away from her musings, Hermione refocused her eyes to take in her surroundings. When she noticed the brick walls, the beige-colored, cushioned booths, and wooden tables with black, metallic chairs around her, she knew she was inside the little cafe around the corner of the Ministry.