Hermione was back at Hogwarts in the common room of Gryffindor tower. The warm colours and familiar smells made her feel safe and calm.
My home away from home, she thought with a sigh.
She wished she was back at home with her parents and a wave of sadness flowed through her.
They wouldn't know you if you stood right in front of them, she reminded herself.
You did it to protect them.
It was the hardest thing she had ever done and a small part of her felt guilty. She had stolen herself from them-stolen a piece of their lives. She wondered if they, on some level, noticed the absence...noticed something missing. Had she left a hole in their hearts or was the spell she had cast strong enough to erase even the feeling that something was gone that had once been there? Was she as shadow in the corner of their minds eye, flickering away as soon as they looked? Or not even memorable enough to be an absence?
Hermione closed her eyes trying to push away those thoughts.
She was safe here at Hogwarts and after everything that had happened at the mansion being safe was good enough.
Outside the window was a light drizzle of rain, pitter-pattering on the pane's soothingly. A log in the fireplace popped and Ron came and sat next to her on the couch draping his arm around her.
It was harder than usual for her to ease into his arms. Something small about it felt forced.
It's because he left you there so long.
You can't blame him, you know he had to have tried, she told herself.
"I missed you 'Mione. Something fierce," Ron pulled her in close and Hermione let him. She wanting to sink down into his arms and let go of all of the tension that was lingering around her.
Relax, she told herself.
"We were right worried about you, you know. Worried sick," said Ron and while the words were meant to be comforting they didn't reach Hermione the way she wanted them too.
Hermione looked up and Ron and saw him looking intently down at her as if willing her to believe him. She could almost feel how he wanted her to just be "okay" and assuage his guilt.
Why is it my job to make him feel better? the part that was still mad at him asked. She closed her eyes and tried to push the emotional side down.
"I believe you," she answered, without looking up at him.
"I'm just glad Harry and I got you out of that place."
"So am I Ron." Hermione answered and snuggled deeper into his arms, finally able to let a little of her tension go.
He and Harry had come for her. They had rescued her from that hell. Everything was okay now.
"How did you survive there anyways? Harry and I were both worried you were dead."
Hermione stiffened immediately.
She couldn't bring herself to talk to Ron about what had happened. She didn't need to add to his guilt and she didn't want to re-live things herself.
And...more than that, she knew Ron wouldn't understand if she told him about Draco.
"Ron I'm thirsty," she sidestepped his question, sitting up. "Can you bring me some butter-beer?"
"Sure 'Mione," said Ron with a nod. "Whatever you need," he unfolded himself from the couch and left her alone staring at the crackling fire.
While she waited for Ron to return Hermione looked into the fire and tried to let the warmth and light seep into her.
"Here you go," a soft voice said and a hand came into view with a mug of the sweet liquid. It wasn't Ron's hand-It was far too elegant and pale and beautiful. Hermione recognized the hand immediately and leapt off the couch turning to face Draco.
"What are you doing in our common room?" Hermione demanded.
"Bringing you a drink of course," he said as if it were the most obvious thing. "You said you were thirsty."
"I told Ron, I was thirsty," Hermione shook her head. "Not you."
"Does it matter?" asked Draco tilting his head to the side. His eyes were softer than usual and the play of the fireplace against his skin gave him a warm glow that added to the illusion of gentleness in him.
"Yes..." Hermione answered.
It has to matter. It has to be Ron who helps and saves you and bring you Butter-beer. He's your friend. He...might have been turning into something more.
Even to herself the words felt slightly off making Hermione feel a little ruffled, then guilty.
She had wanted Ron for a while and recently it had seemed that the feelings were returned. She thought back to when they were all on the run together.
Ron left you then too, a part of her mind whispered.
He came back...it was the Horcrux, you can't blame him for that.
"Why can't I be the one to give you what you need?" Draco asked, pulling Hermione away from her thoughts. Draco set the glass down and reached for her hand slowly enough that she could have pulled away.
She didn't
His hand was warm and soft. His fingers sent a tingle up her arm.
"Because that's not how we are Malfoy," Hermione said looking down at her hand in his. It was a pretty image: their hands together.
Draco slowly laced his fingers through hers. She did nothing to stop him.
You should stop him, you shouldn't be doing this.
"We could be," he answered. His eyes locked with hers and he slowly brought her hand to his lips kissing the back of her fingertips softly.
Suddenly the room felt so much smaller and the fireplace so much warmer.
Hermione felt her cheeks flush.
"Draco..." she tried to think of something to say but all that came to her was his name.
"It's okay Granger," Draco pulled her in close and held her in his arms. He was solid and warm and felt like safety.
He feels like safety because he was the one who tried to keep you safe.
"I don't know what to say," Hermione finally admitted nestling her head into the crook of his shoulder. He smelled wonderful and she breathed in deep closing her eyes.
"You don't have to say anything," Draco's voice was deep and soothing. He pulled her down onto the couch gently and shifted them so that he was sitting behind her holding her close.
She felt engulfed by him and his nearness; Overwhelmed and safe at the same time.
It terrified her.
She trembled.
"Are you cold?" he asked and pulled her in closer.
"No..." she answered. She could feel the hardness of his chest against her back, so warm and reassuring.
A blush crept across her face.
"I'll keep you warm Granger, I'll keep you safe."
You should pull away. This is wrong.
"You can't keep me safe," she answered, he brain feeling suddenly foggy. Where was she really? When did she get back?
"I can try," she heard the conviction in his voice and craned her neck to look back at him.
Their eyes locked again and Hermione's lips parted. Draco's gaze flicked down to her lips and he moved forward painstakingly slowly.
"Draco..."
You can't let him kiss you.
"Yes?" he asked, his lips a hairbreadth from hers. She could feel his breath caress her skin.
"Mione!" Ron's voice came from behind them and she turned to see the glass of butter-beer he was carrying slip from his hands.
Time slowed and Hermione watched the glass fall...felt Draco pull back...saw Ron's face contort... and then the glass crashed to the floor shattering.
Hogwarts and the dream shattered along with the glass and Hermione found herself awake in bed surrounded by warmth.
The shock of the abrupt awakening gave way to a faint horror at both what she had dreamed and where she was.
She was in the Malfoy manor, in Draco's bedroom, in Draco's bed.
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Yup, that's where I leave you for this chapter. Please review.