Exactly one hour later, Hermione heard a rapping at her hotel door.
Taking a last look in the mirror, she smoothed out her now dry dress and tamed hair.
It would have to do. Slipping on her sandals, she left her room.
Draco looked her over, and she decided to return the favor. He was wearing jeans and a white polo shirt. They matched.
"Hungry?" Draco asked.
"Starving actually."
Luckily, the restaurant wasn't far from the hotel they were staying at, and they made the trip in no time at all. Expecting a very elegant food establishment, Hermione was surprised when Draco ushered her into a small mom and pop joint. They were quickly seated and given menus and wine.
Hermione looked warily at the blood red liquid. Would it really be wise to drink it, given how lately she always seemed to feel slightly tipsy around Draco to begin with? Probably not. She pushed the wineglass away and asked for some water.
"You're really going to drink water?" Draco asked. The look of disbelief mirrored that of their waiter.
"What's wrong with water?" she asked, clearing her throat.
"We're in Italy. Land of Bacchus. God of the vine... inspirer of ecstasy," Draco winked at her and pushed the wine back to her. After taking their orders, the waiter walked away with a smirk on his face.
"Also inspirer of madness," Hermione reminded before she took a small sip. The alcohol burned down her throat, warming her insides. But she knew that with her, a little bit went a long way, so she pushed the drink away again, refusing to have any more.
"You could use a little madness in your life," Draco said, smiling at her.
If Draco knew that at that moment madness was equivalent to pulling him across the table and kissing him smack dab in the middle of the restaurant, Hermione doubted he would be suggesting such things.
Yes, a little madness would set her up nicely, before it ruined her life. Nope, no madness then. She needed all her wits about her. And she had a really low tolerance for alcohol.
"So, what do you want to do during our free day?"
Hermione leaned in, suddenly excited. "I know it's a bit far, but I was hoping we could go to Venice. I've never been. Is that OK?"
"Whatever you want. After all, you successfully negotiated with the Caprese mermaids. How many women can say that?"
None. Not even her. No matter how Draco tried to spin it, that meeting would have been a disaster without him. But Hermione was determined to enjoy her night. That meant no more mermaids and biting her tongue.
Hermione clapped her hands together, thrilled. "Thank you so much. I can't wait."
As they made more detailed plans for their Saturday excursion to Italy's City of Light, the waiter returned with their food.
"So, have you gotten a gift for Pansy's wedding?" Hermione asked, twirling her fork in her pasta.
From the look on his face, it appeared that Draco had not. "When is that again?" he asked.
"Next weekend."
Draco rolled his eyes. "I don't understand her rush to marry. They've only been engaged for a month. That's hardly enough time for me to get her a present. Or to plan a proper wedding."
"She sent the places where they are registered with the invitation. It's not that difficult to figure out."
"I didn't say it was difficult; it's just bothersome. I'll suppose I'll have Sharon purchase the most expensive gift when I get back on Monday."
Ugh. Sharon. Hermione had another person to add to her "Does Not Exist" list.
"So...are you going with anyone to the wedding?"
Draco shrugged. "I hadn't thought of it. Why? Do you need a date?"
Of course the question shocked her, and of course he asked it as she was trying to swallow a large piece of shrimp. She was too busy trying not to choke on it to answer him. Grabbing the nearest liquid, Hermione downed the rest of her wine.
Draco looked over at her, alarmed. "Are you alright?" Scooting his chair closer to her, he gently rubbed her back.
She was still coughing, but managed a feeble, "Yes." Her face felt flushed though, from the alcohol and the humiliation.
"Good. So do you want to go to Pansy's wedding together?"
Hermione cleared her throat, still having difficulty swallowing. And breathing. Draco was still patting her on the back. "Sure, why not?"
He leaned in, smiling. "That's a relief. Now that Weasley's single, I don't want him getting any ideas concerning me."
"Oh. I had forgotten about Ron." He and Lavender had broken up. Again. But this time Lavender had said they were over. She'd never done that before, and Ron was still feeling pretty miserable about it. He probably wouldn't want to be at the wedding by himself, surrounded by all the happy couples. "Poor guy."
The sound of Draco's chair scooting away woke Hermione from her sympathies. "Don't feel too sorry for him. I'm sure they'll get back together soon," he said.
When Hermione had talked with Ron last, he hadn't seemed so hopeful about a possible reunion. "Maybe. Maybe not. I think Lavender is really upset with him."
"Should she be?" Draco asked, taking a small sip of his wine.
"I don't know. Ron is Ron. I'm sure he'll eventually want to settle down, but it might not be soon enough for Lavender."
"You know, he might decide he'd rather be with you."
"I doubt it. I think we both know that ship sailed a long time ago. He's moved on."
"And have you?"
Yes, Draco. I seem to have developed feelings for the guy sitting across the table from me, who just so happens to be you, as well as the nosiest git in the world.
"We've already had this discussion. Of course I have. A very long time ago. Why would you think otherwise?"
"Since you broke up he's dated Lavender, and you..." Draco didn't finish the sentence, but she knew what he was thinking.
"Yes, I know, I'm pathetic and haven't dated anyone else. Thanks for pointing that out."
"I didn't mean it that way. You aren't pathetic. You are a successful, intelligent, beautiful young woman, which makes the fact that you aren't dating suspicious."
Whatever. "Well, at least we can be pathetic together," she said, sarcastically. And because she really wanted to know, she asked, "And why aren't you dating anyone else? Who haven't you gotten over? Millicent? Astoria?"
"I was never in love with someone."
"Neither was I!"
"Glad that's settled then," Draco said, smiling at her over his wine glass. And just like that, he was back to normal and Hermione was royally confused. And annoyed. She should have known he was just trying to rile her up. It seemed to be one of his favorite hobbies, and usually she played along. Maybe it was the wine that was making her so disagreeable and moody.
Hermione had a few minutes of peace, during which she finished up her food. And she didn't even choke once. Quite the accomplishment.
When the waiter asked if they wanted dessert, Hermione was too stuffed to take another bite. Draco, however, ordered a chocolate and almond torte. It was beautiful, in all its chocolately and almondy wonderfulness, and even though she was full, Hermione eyed it enviously.
"Want some?" Draco asked, pulling the fork from his teeth. His tongue flicked out over his lips, and Hermione hoped she wasn't drooling. Dessert had never looked so good.
"Alright. But just a bite. I've eaten too much as it is."
Reaching for his fork, she noticed he wasn't giving it to her. Instead, Draco was bringing his Torta Caprese to her mouth.
Did he really think she'd let him fork-feed her? She was slightly tipsy, not rip-roaring drunk. "Thank you, but I can feed myself."
"Yes, but not very well. You almost died choking on your shrimp earlier. I'm not willing to take any more chances, especially since you are the only thing protecting me from Weasley's advances."
"Hey, that's not trarghh-"
The jerk had slipped the food into her open, protesting mouth. Hermione was so tempted to spit it out, but that was hardly lady like. And the dessert was delicious. She would only be punishing herself by not swallowing.
"Hmmm." It was so yummy.
"Good, isn't it?"
Hermione just shrugged. "I've had better."
"Sure you have." And then he ate some more, clearly enjoying torturing her. When there was only one bite left, he pushed his plate over to her. "I suppose you can finish this."
Hermione didn't touch it. Not while he was watching. But the second he turned his back to ask the waiter for their check, the rest of the dessert magically disappeared. Best magic trick she had ever performed.
The sun was setting over the water when they exited the restaurant. Hermione was content to watch from the sand, but Draco had another idea.
Taking her wand, he transfigured a shell into a little canoe and some twigs into oars. If he had known about Cinderella, she would have made a joke about him being her Fairy Godmother, but the humor would have been lost on him. Death Eaters and Disney movies probably didn't mix, so he most likely missed out on that experience growing up.
He offered her a hand to help her inside the boat, but Hermione hung back. "I'm not sure. It looks like it will sink the second were out to sea."
"Good thing you can swim then, isn't it?"
"Where are we going?"
"It's a surprise. Now get in."
"Fine, but if this sinks, you will never hear the end of it."
"Your threat has lost much of its potency, since I've long been desensitized to your nagging."
Hermione smacked him playfully on the arm as he gathered his oars and pushed off from the beach. "Take that back."
"Fine. I will never grow accustomed to your incessant harping. Better?"
"Much."
He rowed about twenty yards from the shore, heading in a northwestern direction toward a curious looking outcropping of rocks.
"What's that?" Hermione asked, both excited and nervous. She hadn't read about anything like this in the travel guide books she had borrowed from the library.
"You'll see."
Sensing she wouldn't be getting any more answers, Hermione leaned back into the canoe, watching the sun set behind Draco's head. It was magnificent, and she decided that her hypothetical honeymoon would no longer take place in Athens, but on the island of Capri.
They reached the rock formation just before the sun was swallowed up by the sea, but Draco did not slow down. Hermione was about to scream for him to look out when they went straight through the stone.
"Disillusionment charm," Draco explained, though Hermione wasn't really listening. She was too busy ooh-ing and ah-ing over the glorious waters. Now that she had passed through the barrier, she could see all various openings in the rock. The last remnants of the day and the glow of the full moon above filtered through them, lighting up the cavern in the most beautiful shades of emerald and sapphire she had ever seen.
"Everyone talks about the Blue Grotto, but that's because they haven't visited this one," Draco said, smiling smugly.
No kidding. This place looked like something out of movie. One with lots of romance and a handsome leading man.
"It's gorgeous, but it's a shame that only the wizards know it's here."
Draco shook his head.
"They don't know about this place? Then how..." Ah. The mermaids. Of course. But..."How do you know about it then?"
"The mermaids."
Why did she even ask? They seemed to be the answer to every question. Why is the sky blue? The mermaids. Why do objects fall to the earth? Nope, it's not gravity, but the mermaids.
"Are you sure we should stay? They might get upset we're here." Or rather, that Hermione was here. They'd probably throw parties if they found him in their little Rock of Romance.
"They wouldn't have told me about it if they didn't expect me to check it out."
Silly Hermione. They'd probably show up any second, and she did not want to be anywhere near here when they did. And that applied for Draco as well. "I think we should leave," she said.
"Not until we get a better look around."
Draco rowed farther into the grotto, his oars cutting through the water the only sound.
Hermione sat up straight in the boat, no longer so at ease.
"Relax, Hermione." And as if to demonstrate what that would look like, Draco let go of the oars and dipped his fingers into the water. "It's warm. Do you want to swim?"
"I already told you I didn't bring a suit."
Seeing Draco's smile, Hermione instantly shook her head. "No. Absolutely no skinny-dipping."
"Is your mind always in the gutter? I was simply thinking of transfiguring your sundress into a tasteful bikini."
"If you so much as think of doing that for another second, I will leave."
"And where will you go?"
"I'll apparate back to England if I have to."
"From Italy?"
"It can be done, and if you try to put me in a bikini, I can guarantee that I will have sufficient determination to make my way home without being splinched."
"Alright. No bikinis. But what's your opinion on a modest one-piece?"
Hermione was just about to emphatically state her answer, but a small splashing sound diverted her attention.
"Draco," she whispered, eyes wide. "I knew we weren't supposed to be here."
"It's alright. Look, it's just a mermaid." Gesturing with his hand, Hermione turned around in the boat to see what he was pointing to.
In the middle of the grotto was a raised platform of rock not five feet away from them. The moon's rays filtered through an opening at the top of the grotto, virtually spotlighting one of her most favorite magical creatures. Her tail was white, slicing the silvery light into a spectrum of color. The lapis-lazuli blue of the water reflected off her still glistening skin, and her waist length black hair, decorated with white shells and starfish, fell in waves down her front.
"Why hello, Draco," the creature purred. Hermione wanted to gag at the mermaid's poor imitation of a cat. Really, who talked like that? No normal girl, that's for sure.
The silence stretched as Hermione waited to be acknowledged, but it never happened.
"Good evening, Urania," Draco said.
Lifting one of her slender arms, Urania raised a comb of coral to the ends of her hair. She kept up this pretense for a few seconds before flipping her hair behind her shoulders, revealing one of the biggest sets of breasts Hermione had ever seen.
Whenever Hermione had imagined the underwater women, they always had shells or at least really long hair covering those bits. Like in that Disney movie. Needless to say, the earlier meeting with the mermaids had come as quite a shock. All day long, she had been strenuously trying to block out that particular, horrible memory of being surrounded by a bevy of topless mermaids.
So much for those efforts.
An ample bosom seemed to be a genetic feature of this species of mermaid, along with an unbelievable exhibitionist streak. Being shy and modest when it came to her own body (looking at herself naked in the mirror was avoided like a staring contest with Medusa), Hermione couldn't understand how these creatures were so willing to flaunt their nakedness.
Blushing wildly, Hermione stared down into the water. She almost reached out her hands to cover Draco's eyes, but managed to resist, instead clasping them tightly in her lap.
"Fancy a swim?" Urania cooed from her perch, stretching her arms above her head, which Hermione saw reflected in the sea's surface. "The water's warm, but if you're feeling cold, I can take care of that."
Shameless hussy!
It wasn't like Hermione was jealous of Urania's back-bowing chest. Having never been fascinated with breasts, Hermione was perfectly content being flat as a board. But Draco wasn't a female, so he probably wasn't inured to Urania's...feminine wiles. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione tried to see if he was looking.
He was. Just not at the mermaid. He was actually laughing at Hermione, as he had earlier at the meeting. Well, at least somebody was finding this amusing, because she sure wasn't.
"I'm sorry, but Hermione and I were just about to leave the grotto. We apologize for intruding on your moon bathing."
Urania glanced over at Hermione, who waved as politely as she could to a bare-chested floozy. It was about time the mermaid noticed her, even if it were only to sneer at her. Like she was some kind of barnacle stuck to Draco.
"Suit yourself," Urania said, then shimmied off the rock. With a flick of her tail, she flung water all over Hermione before disappearing into the deep.
Draco's once quiet laughter erupted into loud peals of merriment, which echoed off the walls of the grotto. Hermione could do nothing but splutter, glaring at him through a curtain of her sodden hair.
"I cannot believe the nerve of that, that..."
"Brazen tart?"
"YES! That is exactly what she is, flaunting her big, uh..." Hermione ground to a halt, not wanting to say what she had been about to say.
"Egos?"
Hermione looked at him, stunned. Then she burst into laughter. "Yes, her enormous, outrageous egos! Seriously, what was all that about?"
"She was just jealous of you."
"Of me?" Hermione snorted. "I doubt that. My, er, egos are nowhere as big as hers."
Draco shook his head, smiling. "She was showing off because she's jealous for attention. It's exactly like what the girls at Hogwarts would do when they felt they were being ignored."
Hermione folded her arms across her chest. "And just how many Hogwarts' girls have flashed you?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
Hermione reached over the side of the boat and splashed him with some water. "Draco! Please tell me you're kidding." She tried to sound like she was joking, but she was really alarmed. The idea of Draco seeing any of her female classmates topless was not very appetizing. It wasn't jealousy, she told herself. Just common decency.
Draco rolled his eyes. "None. I just meant that the girls at Hogwarts, girls everywhere actually, engage in attention getting behaviors when they feel threatened by other females."
"Yes, well..." Hermione pulled out her wand, performing a drying spell. She knew her hair was a mess, but there was nothing she could do about it now besides put it up. Untying the blue sash from around her waist, she pulled the riotous curls back from her face. "Most girls are idiots."
"But not you?"
"Never me."
They both smiled at each other, but there is only so long that can be done before things get awkward and someone (read: Hermione) looks away.
"Maybe we should head back to the beach," Draco suggested.
"Sounds like a good idea. I'd hate to run into any more mermaids. They might try to drown me. Or smother you with their egos."
"I thought they were charming," Draco said. She knew he was trying to provoke her, and she played along.
"Row or I swear by all that is magical that I will take that oar and hit you over the head with it."
Without another word, Draco made for land, their laughter bouncing off the surface of the water. He took his time about it, and as they leisurely approached the shore, Hermione stared up into the night, dragging her fingers in the water.
All seemed well, but just as they were within swimming distance of the beach, the boat began to rock violently back and forth. Hermione could have sworn she saw a flash of white tail just as the skiff tipped over.
Urania!
Thankfully, Hermione knew how to swim, but that mermaid ho didn't know that.
Draco treaded water over to her, "Are you alright?"
"Yes! But I cannot believe that stu-"
He put his finger to her lips and leaned in closer to her. "She might still be around," he whispered in her ear, his warm breath prickling her watery skin. She could only nod.
They swam back to the shore, and both emerged from the sea dripping wet. Draco's shirt clung to him like an extra layer of skin...completely see-through, and she knew her dress wasn't in much better shape. Reaching for her wand, Hermione realized she didn't have it. While she was wearing a bra, it was also white. The material was probably too thick to reveal anything, but she wasn't going to take any chances. Hermione turned around, crossing her arms over her chest.
Stupid, stupid mermaids!
"I dropped my wand in the ocean. Would you mind drying my clothes off?"
"And why would I do that?"
"Because as you said so yourself, you are a perfect gentleman. And I don't like the idea of standing here soaking wet in see-through clothes."
"I think you misheard me earlier. I said that I had been a perfect gentleman. Notice the past tense."
Hermione turned around, angry and arms flailing. "I don't need a grammar lesson! I need a wand!"
"I didn't bring mine. You should have listened to me earlier when I wanted to transfigure your dress into a bikini."
His eyes flicked down quickly to her chest, then back to her eyes. It happened so quickly Hermione almost didn't catch it, but she did, and instantly flung her arms across her chest again. "I cannot believe you!" she yelled, choking on her indignation.
"I didn't see anything. I mean other than the outline of your bra, so you can stop worrying."
"But what if you had?" Hermione groaned, still feeling humiliated even though deep down she knew it was really nothing.
"I didn't, so it doesn't matter."
For some reason that wasn't reassuring. And after her multiple ordeals with the naked, big-chested mermaids, she did not like the idea of Draco even seeing anything related to that part of her anatomy. Merlin, what if he was trying to compare her to one of them? Absolutely mortified, she turned around and began walking back toward the hotel.
"Hermione...Hermione, wait."
He caught up to her after a few feet and pulled her around. "I saw absolutely nothing. I swear."
"I don't care. You shouldn't have looked in the first place."
"It wasn't like I was looking for nefarious purposes. If I wanted to do that, I wouldn't have let you see me do it. I'm not a pervert."
He was right. It was poor judgment to do what he had done, but over the course of their whole relationship, apart from the occasional innuendo, he really had been nothing but a gentleman. And as he said, he hadn't even seen anything. Still, she wasn't very happy.
"I promise I will never look below your neck again," he said.
He took his finger and placed it under her chin, raising it so she had to look at him. "From here on out, it's just eye contact. I won't even look at your chin. Or your forehead."
Hermione laughed before she could stop herself.
"So am I forgiven?" he asked.
"I really shouldn't, but, yes, you're forgiven."
"Now I want you to say, 'Draco is not a pervert.'"
"It's alright. Let's just get back to the hotel, so we can get your wand and retrieve mine."
"Not until you say the magic words."
"Fine. Draco is not a pervert."
"Good girl. And just to be fair..." She saw that trouble-forecasting twinkle in his eyes before it disappeared behind the fabric of his shirt. He peeled off the wet top, revealing the glistening expanse of his chest and stomach. For a second the shirt got caught around his head, and Hermione's eyes dropped down. Realizing what she was doing, she brought them back to his now uncovered face.
"I saw you looking. Now we're even."
It was not the same thing, but Hermione's mind was too muddled to note the distinction.
Still stunned by the reappearance of shirtless Draco, she could not tear her eyes away as he wrung the water out of his shirt. The muscles in his arms and chest tightened and swelled from the action, and Hermione was rendered speechless.
Stupid, stupid Draco! Why couldn't he keep his clothes on?
She was just about to look away, when something caught her attention.
Running down the middle of Draco's chest all the way to his belly button was a thin white line.
Without thinking, Hermione reached out to examine it. It was barely raised, hardly registering against her light touch. Forgetting herself, she slowly traced it from top to bottom, and only stopped when Draco shuddered. Hermione snatched her hand back.
"Sixth year souvenir from Potter," Draco said, his words clipped.
"Harry told me about it, but I'd forgotten. Does it still hurt?"
"No. Just looks ugly."
"It's hardly noticeable." It was true. The scar was so thin and light, a person would need to be this close to even see it. And if they were, Hermione doubted they would be staring at the scar. Not when there were so many other beautiful things around it, like his abs, or his pectorals, or his arms. Hermione stopped the mental catalog of his physical perfections, reminding herself that Draco was her friend, not a delectable piece of meat.
He raised his fingers to the scar, and just as she had, stared as he traced its length. "Still wish it weren't there."
They had never talked about that time of his life, and suddenly she was very curious about it. "What was it like that year?"
"Are you sure you want to know?"
"I think it would be good for you to talk about it."
"In that case...It was hell. My father had just been locked away. My mother was a sobbing mess. And me, well I wasn't doing that much better. And then I get called before Voldemort, am basically told that if I don't kill Dumbledore, my whole family will die. Add into the mix getting sliced open by Potter, crying my eyes out to Moaning Myrtyle, becoming a Death Eater, not being able to kill Dumbledore, and making Snape do it for me instead..." Draco shook his head. "It was the worst year of my life."
Hermione grabbed the hand that was still tracing his scar, wrapping his fingers with her own. "I wish we had been friends then. I would have helped you."
He smiled weakly. "It wouldn't have mattered. I was too stupid then to accept it."
Hermione sighed, sad for what had happened, but relieved that it was all in the past and that things were so much different now. He had changed so much, she hardly recognized him from that proud, arrogant jerk that had tried to make her Hogwarts' years sheer misery because he was so miserable himself. He was now her best friend, one of the best people she knew, but he was still hurting. She wanted to give him comfort, and hoped that now he was ready to receive it from her.
Hermione leaned forward and placed a light kiss on his breast bone. "I'm sorry," she murmured against his scar. I'm sorry that we weren't friends, that you had to go through that alone, that you're still haunted by your past. His skin warmed under her mouth, and she pulled away, eyes watery.
"What was that for?" his voice was hoarse, as if any second it would break.
Taking a step back, she almost stumbled. "I don't know. It was, I was," she swallowed, trying to regain her composure. She hadn't meant harm; she had wanted to help. "It's just something muggles do... to make the pain go away. I didn't mean to upset you."
His fingers tightened around her arms, and she closed her eyes, expecting to be thrown into the surf. Anticipating it, she held her breath and waited for what would come next. She didn't have to wait long.
His mouth came down on hers, stealing the breath she had been holding. She had expected to drown, but not like this. It was so different. Like she had swallowed fire.
There was a brief moment where she raised her hands to push him away, certain that this was some mistake. That the wine, the moonlight, the high emotions were playing tricks on them both. Maybe he could handle that, but she knew she wouldn't recover if this didn't stop; she'd eventually want more and then get hurt when he told her he couldn't give her that, because he didn't return her feelings.
But that moment quickly passed. Her hands dropped back to her side, and she let the fire engulf her, memorizing this madness before he decided to end it. His fingers splayed across her back, firmly holding her to his body. She sighed into his insistent mouth, felt one of his hands come up to her face and tilt her head back.
He removed his lips from hers, and her heart seemed to stop beating. It was over, and she didn't want it to be. She could feel her mouth open, the request for him to keep going forming on her tongue, but it got lost somewhere in her throat. It didn't matter. No request was needed, because Draco wasn't finished.
His lips traveled over the skin of her face, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, eyebrows, even her nose.
She felt as limp as a rag doll, and if he were not holding her, she would have fallen over. His mouth moved to her neck, pressing lightly against her pulse point. Now he would know what he was doing to her heart, but she didn't care.
This was how it was supposed to be. That tightening in her gut that wasn't because of anxiety or grief or anger, but because she was in the arms of someone she was really and truly liked. She had called this madness, but she was wrong. It was perfection, it was absolutely right and one hundred percent normal.
But this is Draco, a voice inside her brain managed to squeak, though the weeds threatened to choke it. It yelled at her over and over again, and her heart seemed to take up the refrain, pounding out its words.
This. Is. Draco.
DRACO!
Yes, Draco. Maybe, maybe this could work with Draco. The attraction was there, she cared for him, she respected him. There wasn't any person she would rather spend time with than him. In fact, she couldn't imagine wanting anyone besides Draco.
It had to be Draco.
Hermione reached up, threading her fingers through his hair, pulling his mouth back to hers.
He kissed her for a few more seconds, but then he suddenly stopped, pulled back with a groan.
"Hermione," he murmured against her mouth, voice breathless. He inhaled deeply, resting his forehead on hers. "I think we should stop."
It felt like her world was crashing down around her head, and with it her brain. All she could think was that he didn't want this. Not like she did.
Hermione nodded, disentangling herself from Draco, too horrified to say anything.
He reached out to her, but she shrugged off his hand. She didn't want his pity. She wanted him.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
How could he even ask that? He was the one who had pulled away. She felt ripped apart, but she couldn't show him that. Then he'd know what she thought, that she had wanted this to be more than a mistake. That this wasn't some silly girl crush induced by his good looks. This was something deep. She'd fallen for her best friend and her boss.
Stupid, stupid Hermione!
She could feel the tears burning her eyes, and she was grateful that it was night. He wouldn't be able to see them. One by one, she began shutting down her emotions, explaining to herself why her hopes and dreams regarding him were stupid and foolish.
When she thought she was capable of speaking without bursting into tears, she laughed, hoping he couldn't hear how strained it was. "I told you we shouldn't have had any wine...I apologize for getting caught up in the moment."
She thought she had responded well. Spoken calmly, tried to inject humor into the situation, used the wine as an excuse for their behavior, but he looked absolutely livid. His fists tightened at his side, and his eyes narrowed
"Why are you apologizing?"
"I already told you. I got carried away. I shouldn't have kissed you. It was a mistake, and it won't happen again."
"You think this happened because of the wine? Hermione, you had one glass."
So much for using that as an excuse. Was he determined to make her feel like dirt? He had pulled away. He could have at least had the courtesy of letting her pretend she was acting under the influence of alcohol.
"Fine, it wasn't the wine. I was simply being emotional after all that you told me. I shouldn't have let it go that far."
"Are you serious?"
"Of course I'm serious. You know we don't like each other that way. That we're just friends. We've always made that very clear."
"Merlin, would you listen to yourself. You were all over me seconds ago, and now we're just friends."
He was yelling at her, and all she could do was tremble like a leaf. "I don't know what you want from me."
"I want you to stop lying!"
"I'm not lying! We are just friends."
"I'm not stupid, Hermione. I know you want me. That you've wanted me for a long time, but you've been too scared to do anything about it. And I've been waiting all this time for you to realize it, and now that you have, I'm not going to let you run away."
Hermione shook her head, hoping the harder she did it, the more believable it looked. "What are you talking about?" she said, pouring as much sarcasm into her words as possible. Anything to make him stop believing the truth.
"You're in love with me."
Hermione started laughing. Thank Merlin she wasn't that far gone.
"I'm not kidding," Draco said, his voice and face devoid of all humor.
He was actually serious?
"Love you?!" And because that didn't seem convincing enough, she lied. "I don't even like you. I couldn't possibly love you."
For a second he looked hurt, but then it was gone, engulfed by his anger. "I'm not letting you leave until you admit it."
And then he grabbed her and kissed her. His mouth was hard and unforgiving, and were she not so scared and angry that he was playing with her emotions just to make a point, she would have been able to enjoy the thrill of pleasure that coursed over her from head to toe.
Wild with fear, Hermione twisted out of his arms. "Let go of me!" But he didn't, and she knew that if he kissed her again, there was nothing that would keep her from admitting everything to him. She couldn't let that happen. So she pulled back her hand and slapped him.
Draco's jaw dropped in shock. Hermione thought she must have hit him harder than she had meant to, because his gray eyes were shining like he was on the verge of tears. "Fine," he spat. "Run away. Coward."
And she did. She didn't even make it back to the hotel. She just knew she wanted to be home, and in the blink of an eye, she was back in her flat. Already sick to her stomach, the apparating only made things worse. She fell to the ground, trying not to throw up.
She liked Draco, yes, but now he thought she was in love with him. Well, at least there she could defend herself.
But what kind of defense would that be? I'm not in love with you, but I like you so much I can't stand to be rejected by you?
Everything was ruined. After what had happened, how could she expect to keep her job? Or her friendship with Draco?
And she didn't want to lose either of those. She loved her job. She loved...
Picking herself off the ground, she took a deep breath, knowing she had to tell someone or her brain would burst.
Hermione apparated before the first door she could think of, pounding on it like there were rabid dogs nipping at her heels.
"I'm coming, just hold on a second," she heard a muffled voice call from the inside a few seconds later.
The door flung open, revealing Harry in his pajamas.
"It's ten o'clock on a Friday night. Why are you already asleep?" Hermione asked.
"I had a rough week. And I'm getting old." Harry lifted his glasses, rubbing the sleep out of his tired eyes. "Now why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be in Italy with Malfoy? And why are you wet?" he asked, his brain slowly coming to.
Hermione took a deep breath, then blurted out, "Remember that time when I said that if I ever became a different person, lost my mind, and started liking Malfoy, you had my permission to A.K. me?"
Harry careened into his door frame, still half-asleep. "You're going to need to speak much more slowly if you expect me to understand a word of what you just said."
"I think I have feelings for Draco Malfoy."
"So?"
"So?! This is a huge deal, Harry! Why are you just standing there? You should be whipping out your wand and enfolding me in the green light of death."
Harry shrugged his shoulders. "You guys are practically married, you spend so much time with each other. Seriously, Hermione, you went alone with him to Capri."
"For business!"
"Yeah, I'm sure that's what Malfoy had in mind. Anyway, it had to happen sooner or later."
"But he thinks I'm in love with him!"
"You are."
Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Harry shook his head, rolling his eyes. "And it's about bloody time you realized it. Now I'm going back to bed. Good night." And then he closed the door in her face, mumbling something about moving away to an unplottable, undetectable house.
"WHAT?!"
Hermione began banging her fists against Harry's door, "No, I'm not! Come out here now and take it back!" she demanded.
After about a minute of making as much racket as she possibly could, a window opened above her.
Hermione looked up, "Now listen here...Oh. You're not Harry." It was then that she realized the window belonged to the house next door.
"No, I'm not. I am however trying to sleep. Just like Harry. Would you mind keeping it down."
"Oh, yes. Sorry abou-"
The man slammed the window shut before she could finish her apology.
"I said I was sorry," Hermione huffed, sitting down on the stoop in front of Harry's door. Seriously, what was with everyone going to bed this early? Even she stayed up later than ten on a Friday night. What was wrong with these people?
But staying mad at Harry and his neighbor could only distract her for so long. Eventually her thoughts turned back to Draco and the disaster in Capri.
Burying her head in her hands, she tried to think of some way she could salvage her friendship without admitting to Draco how crazy she was about him.
Enraged that even with the most brilliant mind of her generation she still couldn't come up with a solution, she kicked a stone that was lying by her foot. The pebble skittered across the street, hitting the tire of a car.
Hermione dropped her aching head into her hands, massaging her temples.
Why did everyone think she was in love with Draco Malfoy, anyway?
Sure, Draco was gorgeous, and kind, and intelligent. He challenged her, but knew how to comfort her when she needed that instead. He respected her, but poked fun of her when she was taking herself too seriously. He could be serious when she needed to discuss important things, and then make her sides ache with laughter minutes later. He liked her family, and while she and Lucius still had a ways to go, she adored Narcissa and Andromeda. He was good to Teddy, and even though he would never admit it, he got along with her friends (and probably just for her sake too). And he was always so thoughtful and generous towards her. Plus he made her heart feel all funny when she was around him and then all sad when she wasn't.
But that didn't mean anything, right?
Hermione groaned, raising her head from her hands. The truth was staring her in the face, and she could escape it no longer.
"I'm a bloody idiot...and I'm in love with Draco Malfoy."
She promptly burst into tears.