"I'm..ah...I'm sorry Malfoy, I was just cleaning up," I mumble thickly, scattering to pick everything up which promptly falls to the floor again. When I bend to try again, I feel a warm hand on my arm, pulling me back to a standing position.
"Stop Hermione, just leave it. Can you tell me what is wrong please," he says firmly, but not unkindly. My shoulders slump and I give up.
"Just stupid boyfriend crap, it isn't important," I mutter, avoiding eye contact.
"It obviously is important. I'm your friend Hermione, you can tell me," he says and I can easily hear the insecurity in his voice. I realize then that what I decide to say now can either make or break this friendship, and I suddenly realize just how bad I need it right now. So instead of playing it off, and lying, I do something I never expected to do in my wildest dreams, I confide in Draco Malfoy.
"Well, Ron is supposed to love me, he says he does, and I have written him twice since I got back to school. But he has never writen me back and today, when Harry wrote to Ginny, Ron told Harry to tell Ginny to tell me hi. That's it, that is all I have heard from him since I got on the train," I spew quickly, realizing how lame it sounds. I am sure he is just going to laugh, call me immature and walk away.
"He is an idiot," says Draco, and for a second, I am sure I misheard him.
"What?" I ask through a stuffy nose.
"Weasley is an idiot. He obviously doesn't realize what he is risking. Don't let him hurt you like this Hermione. Don't give him this power over you, don't give anyone power over you, ever," insists Draco.
"I don't know why I let this get me so mad. I am not usually this crazy, I swear," I sigh, plunking down on the couch.
"I know that. This war has changed people Hermione, believe me, I know that better than anyone. We have both lost friends, people we loved and cared about. So now, when we see people pulling away, it is even harder to take. But don't let one insignificant flea like Weasley ruin you. You deserve so much better than that," says Draco, kneeling in front of me and placing one long finger under my chin, forcing me to look at him.
His stormy grey eyes burn into mine, forcing me to recognize the hurt and understanding burning in them. And I realize that he actually does know what I am feeling, his family was the same way with him at times, as were his friends. Without really thinking it through, I throw my arms around his neck and hug him tight. There is only a slight hesitation on his part before his arms wind around my waist and he returns my embrace, holding me tight against his chest. I can feel the pounding of his pulse in the base of his neck as it presses against my cheek. His arms are strong and warm around me, providing a sense of comfort and peace I haven't felt since before the war started. I release a deep breath I hadn't realized I was holding and settle in, more than content to stay her for a little piece of forever.
Draco
Hermione is so small and warm in my arms. I can feel her every breath as I hold her tight against me. I inhale deeply, taking in the floral scent of her hair and skin. She feels so soft and breakable but I refuse to let her go. Every dark thought and regret and nightmare that has plagued me since I got caught up in the war slip away as I hold her. Then, her shoulders begin to shake softly and a wet warmth spreads over my shoulder. I realize she is crying again, but I don't say anything. I just carefully shift us until we are both seated semi-comfortably on the couch and I just let her cry.
I don't know exactly when her sobs turned to deep, rhythmic breaths, but eventually I realize she is asleep. For a moment I am at a loss, I don't know what I should do. I could just slip away and leave her sleeping on the couch, or I could just stay here, holding her all night. The second choice is definately the more appealing of the two, but that would probably not be the best thing for either of us. So, moving with a caution I never knew I was capable of, I shift until I am standing with her craddled like a small child in my arms. Her head is still resting on my shoulder and her arms are still around my neck, making it easier to carry her across the common room, through her bedroom door and over to her bed. Carefully, I lean over and lay her down. Her arms slip from around my neck and her face falls to the side as it comes to a rest on the pillow. I manage to free a blanket from under her and, pulling off her shoes, pull it over her.
I hesitate, watching her sleep with a small smile on her lips and tear streaks down her cheeks. Giving in to my impulses, I lean over and brush my lips over her warm cheek, lingering just long enough to inhale deeply of her intoxicating scent. When I stand to leave, I notice the day bed under the window. I know it is a lame excuse, but it is all I need. She may wake up and need me again. Besides, I seem to only be able to sleep when I can hear her breathing, so I tip-toe over the the day bed and stretch out. My head is just high enough to look out the window at the moon bathed grounds below. I look down at the awe inspiring sight and listen to Hermione's soft breathing and before I know it, I sink into unconsciousness, the taste of her still on my lips.
Hermione
I can tell that it is still early when I wake up, and though my eyes are still itchy with tiredness and I long for another couple hours sleep, my eyes refuse to cooperate and stay wide open. The room around me is still dark, with no more than a pre-dawn light beginning lighten the darkness in the room. I cuddle deeper under the covers, pressing my face into my pillow, but then a strange sound has my ears perked and stills my movement. For a moment it is silent, then it happens again. My head snaps up and spins around, searching the room. As soon as my gaze falls on the long, light shape streched across my day bed, memories of last night come flooding back. And the first thing that pops into my head is how did I get in my bed? I definitely didn't walk here, Malfoy must have carried me. Oh heII, I hope I wasn't too heavy, that would just be too embarrassing to handle.
Then thoughts of how kind and supportive he was push the embarrassment away and a warmth spreads through my chest, flowing through my veins until my whole body is warm and tingly. Thoughts of Ron start to intrude as I slip out of bed and pad over to his sleeping form. This time he is fully dressed, missing only his shoes. He is laying on his side with his back to the window, an arm under his head as his only pillow. Looking at him now, it is hard to remember why I ever hated him. Sighing, quietly, I walk back over to the bed, grab a blanket and return to the day-bed. Thankful that the bed is nice and wide, I lay gently down next to him, pulling the blanket over both of us. Guilt over Ron gnaws at me as I settle in, but I shove it away. Draco showed more feeling for me last night than Ron has since I met him. Besides, Ron doesn't even care enough to write me back. So shoving away the guilt, I close my eyes and focus on Draco's light snores, letting them pull me to unconsiousness.
Draco
When I wake up, sunlight is flooding through the window behind me. I can tell by the angles of the shadows that it is well past sunrise. In fact, I would guess it was after lunch time. For a second, I panic, but then I remember it is Saturday and relax. Then I realize where I am and I sit straight up. Hermione is nowhere to be seen, but I am still laying on her day bed. When I hear footsteps coming toward me, I quickly lay back down and close my eyes, though I am not quite sure why I feign sleep. I work hard to keep my breathing even and deep as I feel her getting closer. But I stop breathing completely when she sits next to me and then lays down, stretching out at my side. She is careful not to touch me, but I can feel the heat coming off of her in waves that engulf me.
I hazard a peek and see her back to me, a thick book supported in her hands, held out in front of her. I can't stay quiet any longer, I stretch out, brushing against her and break the comfortable silence.
"Well this is cozy," I say and she jumps about a mile in the air before falling off the bed onto the carpeted floor. Instantly contrite, I jump to my feet and hold out my hand to help her up. She places her small hand in mine and I pull her to her feet, holding onto her until she quits wobbling and gets her feet. I can't stop the small bark of laughter as I look at her. Her hair fell forward to cover her face when she fell and she looks insane. I reach out and swipe it away from her face. She stares up at me with wide, startled eyes and flushed cheeks.
"I...I'm...I'm sorry, I thought you were still asleep. I didn't mean to wake you," she says, blood flooding her cheeks making them burn a crimson red. Another laugh escapes and she looks away from me. "Sorry," she repeats quietly and I realize I have hurt her feelings by laughing at her. She turns to walk out the door and I quickly grab her arm, effectively stopping her.
"No, don't leave. I am sorry I laughed," I tell her but she doesn't look at me.
"It's okay, I get it," she says so quietly I can barely hear her.
"No, you don't get it. I was laughing because of your pink cheeks and wide eyes. You looked so scared of me," I explain softly, trying to make her understand. When she doesn't look at me still, I tug her toward me and place a finger under her chin, forcing her face up until I can see her shining eyes. "It was nice Hermione. I never meant to give you any doubt about that. It was nice waking up with you next to me," I tell her, holding her gaze with my own.
"You weren't mad?" she asks.
"Being mad was the furthest emotion from my mind Hermione," I tell her, a bit surprised when my voice deepens and becomes rougher.
My hand that is still under her chin raises to cup her cheek. I brush my thumb over her bottom lip and I can feel her warm, shaky breath blow over my skin, raising goosebumps over my arms and back. I slip my hand back until it is resting at the back of her neck and pull her softly toward me. She steps closer and closer until she is less than an inch from me. I can feel her shaking as her trembling hands lift up and come to a rest on my chest.
"You don't have to be afraid of me Hermione. I won't hurt you," I whisper huskily, more than a little shaky myself but never so sure of what I wanted.
"I'm not afraid," she whispers, but I can hear the insecurity in her voice.
"Are you sure this is what you want?" I ask, slipping my free arm around her waist and closing the last inch between us. I can feel every inch of her body pressed flush against mine and I can feel her pounding pulse in her neck. Her wide, shining brown eyes are locked on mine and I couldn't look away if I wanted to.
Her head lifts almost imperceptibly in what I take as a nod and her tongue slips out unconsciously, wetting her bottom lip. That is all it takes to break my control. Never once closing my eyes or breaking her gaze, I lean closer until I can feel her breath brushing over my face. There is less than an inch of space between our lips and I hesitate just long enough to lock the sight in my memory before I close only space remaining between us.