She was certain he could see the disappointment behind her lashes, but it quickly turned into irritation. "Fine," she said brusquely. "If you insist on being so bloody cold all the time-
"I wasn't expecting you to be so angry," he repeated her earlier words condescendingly. "Was there something else you wanted, Granger?"
"No," she huffed, swiftly rising from the bed. "I just don't understand why you have to be such a bastard all the time-
"Hey!" he shouted, standing up and grabbing her wrist. "What the hell were you expecting, Granger? Some gratitude for this poxy ornament when you're leaving me alone in this sodding prison-
"I am learning to expect nothing from you!" she fired back, bringing her face close to his. "Just when I think you might have a shred of decency in you, you go right back to being a selfish prick!"
"What the hell are you talking-
"The other day," Hermione reminded him in a quieter voice. "When we were talking about sides-
"You read too much into things," he growled defensively. "Did you ever think that maybe this place is just screwing with my head a little-
"Not as much you'd like to think," she retorted, swallowing when she realised how close they were. "Why do you have to put on an act when I am the only person who sees you?"
He parted his lips but hesitated to say anything. There was something familiar in her golden eyes that reminded him of the day she had kissed him in her allergy-stricken haze. It was there between her anxious blinks; a spark of courage amongst a storm of nerves, and he felt her lean into him. He clenched his eyes shut and debated allowing it to happen; tempted to just to drop all his defences, and let her do whatever she wanted. This was his only opportunity to get a final dose of her; that forbidden fix, before she left him alone with his demons. They had grazed lips before, so what difference would one more taste make?
But when her warm breath ghosted across his chin, it dragged Draco back to reality, and he hastily shoved her away before she could touch him. He sneered viciously at her as she stumbled, but the venom in his features was forced and practised; simply a mask to cover how disorientated he felt. Granger, on the other hand, had no time to hide her humiliation and surprise; her movements jerky and her eyes misted with hurt. Draco was a heartbeat away from screaming at her to leave, but she whirled around and fled before he could even draw in a breath.
The slam of the door ricocheted around his lonely room like the clap of the Wizengamot's hammer. Thus was his sentence; two days with only his shadow for company and wondering what he would do without her presence to chase away the damning solitude.
He should have let her kiss him…
.
.
The cold air made her tear-sodden eyes sting.
Hermione's walk to Hogsmeade was a rushed one; plagued with the realisation that she was beginning to feel things for Draco that were far from normal.
The first time she had kissed him, she had been woozy and dazed; acting on a commanding impulse that had been too much for logic to repress. But her attempt to catch another taste just moments ago had been different. She had wanted to lean in and test her luck. It had been a conscious decision, that had resulted in her feeling rejected and completely mortified. The thoughts in her brain were muddled and mangled into a catastrophic mess, and she had no idea where to even begin dealing with them.
As The Three Broomsticks came into view, she sleeved away the evidence of her cries and tried to gather her composure. At least the excitement of seeing Tonks would drown some of her questions about Draco, and she managed a half-hearted smile as she entered the familiar inn. A few of the usual punters were scattered around, but she barely noticed them as she caught Madam Rosmerta's wise eyes. The older witch offered Hermione a knowing nod and discreetly passed her a key across the bar, and she wasted no time in rushing to see her friend.
"There she is!" Tonks beamed as Hermione barged into the room. "I thought you might have lost your way."
"It's so good to see you," she gushed, rushing in for a hug, but faltering when she spotted the slight swell of Tonks' stomach. "Oh, Tonks! You're starting to show!"
"Meet the bump," she said with playful grin. "And I'm warning you now that I am going through the craving stage, so if you see me huddled in the corner clutching a marmite and jam sandwich, just ignore me."
Hermione smiled, but couldn't quite manage the laugh that would have normally come so naturally with Tonks' humour. An image of her encounter with Draco, when his lips had been barely a breath away, danced across her lids and left her mouth dry and her heart heavy.
"Are you okay, Hermione?" Tonks asked. "You look a bit troubled."
"I'm fine," she lied quickly. "I just miss Harry and Ron."
"Of course you do," she nodded sympathetically, giving the younger witch a warm smile. "But at least you have some friends here who you can talk to. How are things at Hogwarts?"
Hermione couldn't help but flinch.
Complicated…
.
.
Draco scowled into the darkness.
It was late, and the glow of the moon didn't reach the windowless living room where the silence was ringing in his ears; a loud reminder that she wasn't here. Her scent was starting to fade, the dorm felt eerily hollow, and all he had done for the last several hours was stare at the fucking snow-globe.
All he had to do was rattle the ugly little thing, and she would return, and he could steal a taste of her, as he should have done before she'd left.
He lunged at the magical ornament and hurled it at the wall with a loud roar ripping his windpipe. He watched it shatter before he turned on his heel and marched towards Granger's room with elevated breaths. Mumbling her password, he instantly calmed as he greedily inhaled the air in the room.
Definitively Granger.
He studied his surroundings critically, expecting to find a huge collection of personal belongings, but except for a few photographs, the predicable red bedding, and an impressive collection of books, it was similar to his own room.
Draco eyed the photographs sourly, lingering on particular one of Granger with those feckless pricks she considered good company. He slapped all the frames down so he wouldn't have to look them and settled himself on her bed, absently running his fingertips over her covers. His lids felt heavy and he leaned back; lulled by how strong her scent was amongst her pillows and blankets. If he slept here, surrounded by soothing whispers of her presence, who would know?
"Sod it."
.
.
.
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