Perhaps it was because she could see him slowly dropping his defences, or possibly because the arguments reminded her that she had some fire still thundering in her bones. Hell, maybe she just enjoyed the spasmodic little flutters that crowded her gut whenever they were close…
It was Tuesday, meaning she would be leaving in two days to visit Tonks, and she needed to tell Draco. Smothering her anxiety and steeling her courage, she slipped out of her room, urged on by the winds slashing the night, and tapped lightly against his door.
"Why do you bother knocking?" Draco's voice called from inside. "You will come in whether I say you can, or not."
She found a little smile toying with her mouth as she used her wand to unlock his door, and she licked her dry lips before padding her bare feet over his threshold. He was sitting on his bed; shoulders hunched over and elbows resting against his crossed legs, while one of her books lay discarded near his feet.
"What do you want, Granger?" he asked, barely offering her a sideways glance.
"I wanted to talk to you about something-
"And you decided that three in the morning was the best time to bring it up?"
"I've been busy," she lied, carefully easing herself down to sit at the foot of his bed. "And we're both up, so I figured-
"Spit it out then," he said tiredly. "I actually planned on getting some sleep tonight."
"Okay," she sighed, hesitating as she tried to select her words. "On Thursday, I shall be staying in Hogsmeade for a couple of days-
"What?" he blurted. His head snapped up at her words, and a violent sense of dread seized his chest. The thought of her leaving him alone in this sanity-starving hole made him feel sick to his stomach, and an itchy shiver clawed its way up his spine. "What the hell do you mean you'll be leaving for a couple days?"
"Well, I'm visiting someone," she explained, nervously tucking a an unruly curl behind her ear. "I will leave you enough food and-
"Are you going with that Corner prick?" he hissed quietly, fixing her with a fierce glare. "Romantic fuck-fest for the Heads at The Three Broomsticks?"
Hermione flinched. "No, that's not-
"I suppose I should be grateful that you're not denting the headboard in your own room," he continued viciously. "And if you have to slag it around-
"Draco, stop it!" she barked with offence and the shadows of tears scratching at her eyes. "I'm meeting a female friend for Godric's sake! Why do you always have to do that?"
His mouth clapped shut as he willed his stormy thoughts to simmer, and he wondered why he'd found his rant necessary. He considered the possibility that she was bluffing to save face, but he doubted Granger was capable of lying; and in a world rife with deception, he found her honesty rather refreshing.
"I'm sorry."
The words were rushed and tumbled past his lips before he could stop them, but for a brief moment, he thought the charming softening of her features might be worth his error. The way she looked at him then, like he was worth something more than the pitiful mess he felt, made that incessant craving to touch her tickle his fingertips.
"I'm sorry that I won't be here for a couple of days," she said before he could retract his comment, and he found himself weaving his fingers to keep his hands busy. "I will arrange some way for you to contact me if there's anything you need-
"I am perfectly capable of surviving two days by myself," he scoffed quickly, but the idea of her not being around to chase away the boredom made his soul ache. "It's a bloody shame you don't fuck off more often."
"Maybe-
"You have been a lot more…cheerful recently," he commented suddenly, giving her suspicious stare. "It's annoying."
Hermione frowned and wondered if her reaction to Ron's letter had been a bit more obvious that she'd thought. "What makes you think I'm happier?"
"It's written all over your face," he said with a roll of his smoky eyes. "And if I'm guessing right, this friend that you are meeting is one of your Order lot. Would I be right in assuming that your side is doing well, and that is to blame for your good mood?"
"You know I can't discus that with you-
"Why not?" he countered. "I'm hardly going to walk out the front door and spill all your secrets to the manwho wants me dead."
Hermione exhaled wearily and swivelled her body to face him. "I just don't think we should talk about it-
"I'm sure everyone else is talking about it," he muttered thoughtfully. "Why should we be any different?"
"Because we are different, Draco," she told him, somewhat sadly. "We are-
"On different sides," he finished for her, bowing his head to hide his eyes.
Hermione tilted her head, confused about the trace of melancholy in his tone. He looked troubled tonight, as though a horde of questions were streaming across his brain and he had no idea which one to answer first. She could see the muscles of his face were strained in an attempt to keep whatever was brewing in his head hidden from her, perhaps even from himself. That rare bearing of vulnerability was there again; in the subtle twitch of his lips or the anxious flicks of fingers, and she wondered when she had learned to read him so well.
.
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