Hermione woke up on the morning of the twenty-third with thoughts whirling through her mind. There were so many things that she wanted to ask Draco, so many things she wanted to do for him. She felt as though she made progress last night, despite his rapid departure. She felt as though she had to write back to Harry and Ginny before she did anything, they had taken the time to write to her.
She told Ginny not to worry too much about her and Harry, and that she should probably stop looking at him with sad eyes because it wasn’t helping anyone. She wrote a much longer letter to Harry. She may have rambled on a bit about the awkwardness with Ron, probably too much. She didn’t dare say anything about the person with whom she had been spending the most time. He would not appreciate that.
With only a few days until Christmas she thought she would be able to use that to get through to Draco. She headed down to the great hall to eat. The Christmas trees were gleaming with baubles and enchantments, Hermione thought that she may have even seen a pixie hiding within its branches. There were candles floating in the ceiling which was a snowy morning sky. It would really look beautiful at night. She sat down at the table and began to eat her breakfast. We could go for a Christmas dinner in Hogsmeade, she thought, he would never go for that. She had to think of something completely different, he wasn’t like anyone else she knew. He had bigger scars than most, even after the battle; especially after the battle. She knew that Lucius had been taken to Azkaban, and Draco had come under scrutiny from the ministry. Nothing was made of it of course, he was a minor and he had no positive reinforcement. How was he supposed to refuse?
She wrote something down on a small piece of paper and enchanted it to find Draco, and only Draco.
Meet me in the Hog’s Head at noon.
H.
She watched it flutter out of the hall and continued to eat her breakfast.
Draco awoke in his bed to find Pansy lying next to him. He sighed and his stormy grey eyes grew damp as he thought about the night before. Pansy was not comfort, she was a distraction. But even that kind of distraction was hardly enough to sate Draco anymore. He had been to the other side and now, looking back, he couldn’t imagine this side being anywhere near as satisfying. He blinked quickly to remove any evidence of what was inside him and dressed in his jeans, a shirt, jumper and jacket. He planned on getting away from the castle, if only for the day.
When he reached the back of the portrait to exit, which had been replaced by a picture of Snape, along with his portrait in the headmaster’s office, he opened it and was assaulted with a flying piece of paper. It flew about his head ever so stupidly and did so until Draco snatched it up with his hand. He opened it and read the message. A smile threatened to spread across his lips but it was soon replaced by a feeling in the pit of his stomach that made him feel like he was being dragged to the ground and would be unable to rise. He thought of Pansy up in his dormitory and Hermione waiting for him in the Hog’s Head at midday. The idea made him sick to his stomach. He knew which one he would rather forget.
He looked at his watch; ten thirty. Though he desperately wanted to, he wasn’t sure whether meeting Hermione in such a public place would be a good idea. He wandered aimlessly around the dungeons for what seemed like such a long time before he made his decision.
Hermione sat in the back corner booth of the Hog’s Head waiting for Draco to arrive. She knew that there was a chance that he wouldn’t show up, but she would not leave until she was certain. She looked up at the clock on the wall of the bar; a quarter to one.
This is so stupid! She thought; feeling slightly embarrassed at sitting all alone with her butter beer for almost an hour. She did not leave.
It was an hour later when she put her book into her bag, finished the last of her butter beer and headed for the door. As she opened it she saw Draco standing outside, looking as though he was having trouble making up his mind.
“What are you doing out here?” she said loudly.
He looked up, startled, and struggled to make an intelligible sentence.
“I’ve been waiting for nearly two hours, how long have you been out here?”
“Only about half an hour.” He said quietly.
“Come on then, come on!” Hermione ushered him away from the bar and he followed her looking confused.
“Where are we going?”
She didn’t answer, she just scurried through the snow with Draco following her every step. They finally arrived and Draco stopped in his tracks when he saw where they were headed.
“What’s wrong?” She asked.
He was standing with a cold glare about three metres away from the fence-line. “The Shrieking Shack?”
“Yes, you clearly don’t want to be seen with me so are you coming or what?” Hermione smiled back at him and headed towards the decrepit old building.
She got about half way down the path when she heard his footsteps in the snow. She reached the shack and turned around to see him trudging through the snow with his arms folded.
“You better have a good reason for this Granger.” He said as he passed her and walked into the old wooden building.
They walked up the stairs and into the room next to the only one that Hermione had been in before. How many of the people that had been in that room were now dead? Snape, Sirius, Lupin; she felt her chest tighten when she thought of those lost.
She sat down on the old creaky bed and smiled at Draco. He looked at her questioningly. “What is it?” She asked.
“Why would anyone come here? Look at it; it’s disgusting.” He looked condescendingly at the room.
“Not through choice, I’ve only ever been here the one time.” She looked around; her mind wandering back to her third year.
“Right, you and Saint Potter chasing after Weasley.” He said with a hint of malice in his voice.
“Saint Potter?”
“Yeah, Saint Potter, and you, you’re practically the golden goose of Gryffindor.”
“I am not the golden goose of Gryffindor! What does that even mean?”
“You’re the favourite, perfect little Granger. And Potter always had to save the day. Was Weasley always the damsel in distress?” He was pacing now; Hermione watched as the spiteful words fell from his mouth almost involuntarily she thought.
“I am not perfect! And it’s not Harry’s fault that he was a target.”
“Poor Potter, always having to be the hero; I bet it got so hard for him.” She could see the anger on his face spreading like a disease until he was consumed with it.
“It was hard for him! He didn’t want all of the attention.”
“It wasn’t the attention he was after! He was trying to do the right thing.”
“He always had to save the day.”
“I can’t help what we did for the school and the magical world!”
“Neither can I!” He yelled.
His face was red and he was standing in the doorway looking back at Hermione who was now standing in the middle of the room. Her heart went out to him. There it is, she thought, that’s a part of what’s hurting him. His face dropped and he leaned against the wall to take a deep, shaking breath.
“Draco, I-” She started.
“Don’t!” His quick heavy breathing easily heard over the silence of the room, “don’t call me that!”
“It’s your name.”
“And I don’t want to hear you say it! I don’t want to hear anyone say it!” Hermione heard a sob escape him and she walked over to him slowly.
She placed a gentle hand on his arm and pulled his body around so that he was facing her. She looked up at his face and he wouldn’t meet her eyes. She could see that his eyes were glassy and the pain she saw in them must have been soul-splitting. She raised her hands to his face and put one either side of it. Draco’s stormy eyes looked up and into hers as if screaming for help, and she drew his face towards hers and kissed his lips gently. Her thumbs softly stroked the skin on his cheeks and his shaking hands found their way to her sides. She parted her lips and held him tighter and their kiss deepened. Draco wrapped his arms around her body and she pressed herself against him.
It was one of those kisses that just made your legs feel like jelly. It was one that felt like you were experiencing everything at once. All of a sudden they were moving, neither one sure who was doing what or how but it didn’t matter, they were far too involved in one another to think of anything else. Draco felt in a way that he never had; her loving caress foreign to him but he felt as though he could never let her go and at the same time he was so afraid that the moment would be fleeting. Hermione had never felt so secure in someone’s arms, despite the fact that he had been the vulnerable one and she had been the safety net. There was no way she wanted to let go.
Somehow they found themselves on their knees; her hands were laced in his hair and he had his arms wrapped around her body so tightly that she couldn’t move; and she didn’t want to. She kissed him slowly, savouring his every taste, every curve of his mouth and every sweet touch of his tongue. He kissed her uncertainly; all he could feel was ecstasy. This was better than anything he had ever experienced. She placed tender kisses on his lips and rested her forehead against his as they held each other on their knees.
She looked up into his eyes and she could see fear written deep within them. She kissed his forehead and felt his arms tighten around her.
“I… I can’t stay.” He said, resting his cheek on hers.
“I know.” She whispered.
She knew that there was something stopping him from feeling something, and for now she could accept that. Reluctantly she detangled her fingers from his hair and left a kiss on his cheek. She waited for him let her go and he left the room as quickly as he could. She heard the stairs creaking as he walked away from the shack, she listened until she couldn’t hear him anymore.