Kiss

Hermione led them a few blocks away from the Leaky Cauldron and near her old flat. The restaurant was small but always good. She'd gotten take-out there often when she'd lived nearby.

"I have a confession," Draco spoke after a while. His hands were now in his pockets as they walked comfortably side by side.

"You seem to have a lot of those," she responded with a laugh. "Go on."

"I've never had sushi. It's that raw fish stuff Potter's always going on about, isn't it?"

She pointed just ahead. "There it is. And it's not always raw. Sushi is more of an all-encompassing term these days. Each style has a specific name depending on how it's made."

One corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk as they approached the entrance and he reached out to open the door. "You still sound like a textbook sometimes."

Hermione elbowed him in the stomach as she passed through the door first. She smirked as well when he let out a little 'oof'.

"At least I'm consistent."

The restaurant wasn't very busy yet and the hostess seated them in a quiet corner.

Draco scanned the menu for a moment and felt his stomach growl nervously. He glanced over the top of the menu and frowned. "I think you're going to have to order for me."

She laughed at his nervous expression but nodded. "I'll go easy on you. We'll start with something that isn't raw."

When the server came by she ordered them bowls of miso soup, the house salad with ginger dressing, and a roll each that contained crab and shrimp.

Draco swirled his odd looking spoon through the soup and watched the chunks of tofu and seaweed dance around. "Tofu is some sort of beans, right?"

Hermione smiled at him. He still looked nervous. She supposed she should be impressed given that he had agreed to eat something he'd never had before and wasn't arguing. Certainly a far cry from the old Draco.

"Right. I guess sushi isn't up there in the regular rotation of menus in the pureblood household?"

A strange look passed over his face. Was it disgust? It was gone sooner than it came so there was no time to analyze it too closely.

"No, mother never had a taste for it as far as I know. Father wouldn't have eaten anything that didn't require a fork or knife."

He paused to take a sip from his spoon and relaxed.

"Not bad, is it?"

"No, but we haven't gotten to the part where you want me to eat with two sticks."

Hermione laughed and shook her head. The more time they spent together the more she understood why her friends had accepted him. He really wasn't bad at all. She just had a very hard time understanding how he was the same person she'd gone to school with when he wasn't smirking or growling under his breath. There were moments when she still saw the darkness within him but he seemed to keep it guarded from her.

When their rolls arrived she watched him stare at the plate before slowly picking up his chopsticks. He fumbled with trying to coordinate his movements to use them before he finally groaned and set them back down.

"It's not as hard as it looks," she told him as she skillfully picked up her own.

Draco watched with one eyebrow lifted and sneered when she expertly popped a piece into her mouth. He muttered an incantation and quickly grabbed the chopsticks which were now standing on their own before anyone could see.

"Draco," she hissed in false admonishment when he ate his first bite. His smirk was ridiculously triumphant as he chewed that bite. She sat back in her chair with a sigh. "You're impossible."

"No one saw and now I won't starve to death," he grinned mischievously.

She laughed at his bright expression. "You're also dramatic."

He ignored her and picked up another piece, "I think I like this stuff."

Hermione could only smile at him as she finished her meal.

This atmosphere between them was refreshing and neither really wanted to let it go. They exited the restaurant and the evening air had a comfortable chill to it. When she asked if they could walk around the nearby park before heading home, Draco was all too happy to oblige. If they went home too soon, she'd likely retire to her room or the library and he'd lose her company to a book.

The park was well lit and the further they walked, music flooded the area. They came across an open square with a live band playing and couples dancing. Hermione stopped near the edge of the makeshift dancefloor with some others who were standing by watching.

Draco stopped just behind her, so close he could feel her body heat radiating towards him. She'd worn flats and the top of her head met just under his chin. He wanted badly to reach an arm around her waist and have her rest her body against him. He wanted even more to ask her to dance though.

One of the few advantages of his upbringing was that he'd been taught most dancing styles. If she was the dancing sort, and based upon the enjoyment he'd witnessed fourth year at the Yule ball, he thought she very well might be.

Just as he was getting ready to open his mouth, a young muggle man came rushing by them holding an infant.

"Mate, could you do me a favor! My wife just texted and she's trying to find me in the crowd. Could you hold my daughter for just…two seconds? I swear I'll be fast."

Before Draco could react, the man had placed his daughter's sleeping form on his shoulder and rushed off in the opposite direction.

He looked down at Hermione, completely bewildered as he adjusted the girl to get a more comfortable hold on her.

"These muggles are awfully trusting of strangers, aren't they," he asked quietly.

She shook her head as she glanced around them. "Not usually that trusting. Though it could be the policeman standing next to us that made him feel more comfortable."

Draco glanced to his left and spotted the man in uniform. "Policeman…that's like the muggle version of my job, right?"

A slow smile spread on her face and she nodded. "Sort of. You're more like a detective but I'm impressed you know that."

He smirked in satisfaction but the expression soon fell as his brow furrowed in confusion. "And what's texting?"

She was watching him intently as he tried to make the baby comfortable while she was wriggling in her sleep. When she'd first read Draco's name on her match letter she tried to imagine him with children. That was the whole point of this stupid marriage law anyway—to get them all matched and repopulating the wizarding world. She hadn't been able to picture it then.

Now that she was seeing it for herself, an unfamiliar wave of desire shot through her body and she had to take a deep breath to tamp it down. She'd never really understood what other women meant when they said it turned them on to see men being good fathers but now it was becoming clearer.

The muggle man and his wife returned before she could say anything which was for the best.

"You left her with a stranger, Steven? You idiot!" The blonde woman turned to Draco and offered an apologetic smile. "No offense."

Draco smirked at Hermione before looking back at them as he handed them their daughter. "None taken. Besides, I'm a detective. Off duty though."

"See," the man pointed a finger at him, "He's a bloody detective. No harm done."

"Ugh, you're infuriating."

They watched the woman storm off into the crowd, Hermione and Draco both trying desperately not to laugh.

"Thanks, mate!" The man waved and rushed off after his wife.

"If you ever did anything like that," Hermione spoke while still watching the other couple, "I'd lock you in a body bind curse and keep you that way for days. I don't blame her."

Draco missed the part about her cursing him and hadn't gotten past the part of her referring to their hypothetical children.

When he didn't answer, she turned to face him and found him staring at her oddly. His grey eyes had gone dark but it wasn't a look of irritation or anger. It was something she hadn't learned to recognize just yet.

He finally gained his composure and glanced over her shoulder as the song changed and slowed. "Did you want to dance?" He watched as she bit her lip, considering her options. In a rare moment of bravery, he leaned closer to her ear. "I don't bite…unless you ask me to but I don't think you're the type."

His conversation with Harry earlier in the day had certainly gotten to him. Or maybe it was the fresh air and entertaining dinner they'd had. That was the most blatantly flirtatious thing he'd said to her yet.

Hermione's face heated with a fresh blush at his comment. He'd complimented her but he'd never before said anything so flirtatious to her. She had a flashback urge to protect herself, sure that something nasty would come next. But when she pulled back to see his face, he said nothing else. There was just the look in his eyes she still couldn't place as he waited for her reply.

"S-sure," she stuttered.

His mouth spread into a full grin and he reached for her hand as he pulled her through the crowd of muggles and onto the makeshift dancefloor. His heart was beating in his chest nervously as he pulled her to him and settled her right hand on his shoulder and held her left hand in his right tightly.

He wouldn't have admitted it then but he'd wanted to do this since he saw her enter the Great Hall fourth year for the Yule Ball. He'd been a sniveling little brat then but at least he'd kept his mouth shut and hadn't hurled some fake insult at her. She'd truly been breathtaking.

Just as she was now. Those beautiful honey brown curls were left down tonight and shining in the dim lighting. Her deep, brown eyes were trained on his chest as she swayed gently with him.

"I probably shouldn't be focused on this," she spoke quietly, "But I'm a little amused that you're surrounded by muggles and you don't seem to care. You've changed a lot, Draco."

He rolled his eyes with a grunt and dropped her hand to wrap both arms around her waist. Her hand moved to the other shoulder and she dipped her head back to see him.

"I didn't mean it as an insult," she explained.

"I know. I just wish I could change the things I did." He swallowed hard. "Mostly towards you."

Hermione gave him a slight smile as she pulled back. "Let's go home, Draco."

His heart lurched at her sudden request to end their night but he didn't show it and merely nodded.

Instead of dealing with the stares they'd received by going back through the Leaky Cauldron, they ducked into a nearby alley to sidelong apparate. It wasn't something Hermione liked to do as it put too much trust in the other person not to get her splinched.

When she expressed this issue, Draco graciously let her take control.

That all too familiar compressing feeling and tugging behind their navels consumed them before they landed gracefully at the landing of the stairs.

"Smoother than Potter," Draco muttered as he tried to regain his equilibrium.

They walked up the stairs together and stopped in front of her bedroom door.

Hermione held his gaze as she turned to face him. "I had a good time with you, Draco. Thank you."

He bit his lip as he thought through what to say. But words weren't what came to mind.

Draco lifted a tentative hand and brushed some hair behind her ear, the soft strands running through his fingers. How many times had he daydreamed of touching her over the last seven years? Too many to count.

For years, he'd tortured himself stealing peeks at her across the Ministry cafeteria on the days she met Harry for lunch. He'd been guilty of eyeing her up as she passed him in the halls yet his intentions had been more pure than other men doing the same.

He'd silently supported her laws and anonymously donated to her projects. He'd come to truly believe in her ideals and respect her background.

Before the war had begun, he'd started questioning the things his father had taught him. Then what happened that night in Malfoy manor had shaken him. He'd never looked at her the same way again. He'd seen beauty where he'd once been blind.

Hermione's dark eyes were watching him, her lips parted on a word she hadn't decided on yet.

He knew the wheels were turning in that big brain of hers and he needed to act quickly before she shut him down. If he gave her too much time to think, he was certain that she would, too.

Stupid or brave, he wasn't sure what to call what he did next.

Draco moved his hand to cup her cheek, marveling at her soft skin, before he dipped his head and captured her lower lip between his.

Her surprise was palpable. He felt her stiffen at first and his blood ran cold. When he felt her press a hand to his chest he was certain she was getting ready to push him away.

Hermione was somewhat shocked to feel his mouth on hers. Pureblood Draco Malfoy was kissing her—muggle-born Hermione Granger. Her conversation with Ginny from earlier in the afternoon came back to her and instead of overthinking it, she went with her gut.

She curled her fingers into his shirt and brushed her lips against his with a slight bit more force, testing the feel of him. His lips were soft and warm—a stark contradiction to her silly expectations. After a few gentle passes she felt the hot tip of his tongue across the seam of her lips. Her mind took control again and she pulled back suddenly.

Her body was buzzing much the way it had when she'd first held her wand in Ollivander's when she was eleven. He'd kissed her—and she'd let him.

Draco was a better person now; there was no denying that fact. However, she didn't know what he wanted from her. She didn't want to be a passing amusement for the next year. They'd not discussed any possibility of anything romantic. The thought never occurred to her that he'd be interested, despite whatever Ginny may have said.

She ran her tongue across her swollen lips quickly and could taste him on them. Spearmint.

"Goodnight, Draco."

The door shut in his face but he was too amazed to say anything else. She'd kissed him back.

He stood there staring at the wooden door for a moment. "A person isn't who they are in one moment but who they are over the course of their life," he said to himself.

Maybe if he kept saying it he might start to believe it. He wanted to. The problem with loving Hermione Granger was that he wasn't really worthy of loving her. It couldn't stop him from trying.

Draco shook his head and trudged down the hall to his room. He showered with a lightness in his chest that he hadn't felt in years. After pulling on his pajama bottoms and a long sleeved shirt, he climbed into his cold bed and grabbed the book he'd started from his nightstand, deciding it was best not to dissect their kiss and let it be for the night.

He was halfway through the book when he heard it. Droplets of water pattered against his window. He'd been reading in bed for a few hours by that point but thought nothing of it. It seemed like a gentle rainstorm passing through.

That theory went all to hell at the first boom of thunder that shook the house. He sprang upright and listened. He knew by the hour that she was likely already asleep. He didn't hear anything but that wasn't good enough. He had to know she was ok.

He swung his legs over the bed and quietly crept down the hall. With his ear pressed against the door, he heard a creak and decided to peek inside.

Hermione was sitting up in bed, the covers bunched at her waist and her chest heaving as she tried to draw in deeper breaths. She whipped her head towards the door as it opened.

"Draco?"

He pushed inside fully and stood upright. "Are you ok?"

He swallowed when she lifted a hand and held it out to him. Like a magnet pulling him, he moved towards her without question and nearly jumped when she pulled him to her, wrapping her arms around his back and shoulders and pressed her face into his neck.

Draco wrapped her in his arms gently, slowly, and tried not to let his heart beat out of his chest at the feel of her bare arms. Her warm breath on his neck sent shivers across his flesh and familiar desire coursed through his veins.

Hermione was still shaking when he ran a hand slowly down the length of her back and back up again until her breathing slowed to normal. She pulled back slowly, a slight sheepish look on her face, and already missing his warmth.

"I'm sorry if I woke you."

He shook his head. "I was up reading."

His eyes ran the length of her arms, slender and pale in the moonlight filling her room. His heart froze up when he saw the scar on her left forearm. It was faint now, barely noticeable.

Mudblood

Hermione seemed to notice and covered the almost faded scar with her hand. "Most people don't even know it's there. It's faded so much over the years. The healers did a good job with it though."

When he didn't answer or meet her eyes she began to worry.

"Draco?"

He moved to sit in the chair next to her bed and slumped into it as he stared at her hand still covering the scar. His face had gone blank and he looked paler than usual.

Hermione turned towards him and crossed her legs under her as she watched his face. He was quiet for a long moment and then suddenly his dark grey eyes met hers and it was like the floodgates broke loose. His lips twitched and his eyes appeared hard as he spoke.

"Before they brought you lot to the manor that night, I'd already been questioning everything we were doing. I wanted so badly to stop her. I was scared. A fucking coward as usual. I thought that if I did something and she thought I cared, even the tiniest bit, she'd just kill you out right. To punish me before she'd likely turn her wand on me next. And if not her, one of the others would have done it."

Hermione swallowed at his raw honesty. They'd never talked about that night before and she hadn't really wanted to as she'd admitted to Ginny. Somehow in that moment, she knew they had to if they were ever going to continue to move forward with their lives.

"You not doing anything likely saved me. I told Ginny the same thing yesterday."

He continued on like he didn't even hear her. He was gripping the arms of the chair so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.

"I didn't understand it but I couldn't bear the thought of you dying. Not you. No matter what hateful things I said, you didn't deserve to die. Especially not like that. You were so much better than everyone else at school. So Gryffindor. So loyal. Everything I wasn't. Everything I didn't deserve. You were pure in a way I couldn't comprehend until that night."

Her eyes widened at his words. Even though she knew the context was different, he'd still just referred to her as pure. A word he'd only ever used for himself once upon a time.

Hermione threw back the covers and lifted herself out of bed to stand in front of him. He looked up at her but didn't move. The expression behind his eyes—it was like he was empty. So bared and raw in front of her, unlike she'd ever remembered seeing him.

With a hesitant hand, she reached for his left arm and pushed his sleeve up, revealing the dark mark that she'd been thankful he'd kept hidden from her this whole time. He flinched when he realized what she was doing but didn't jerk out of her grasp. He seemed resigned to whatever she would do or say.

She looked up at his face first and then back to the mark. It was faded like her scar but still more present. She'd never forget the first time she'd ever seen one before in one of their school books on the dark arts. A familiar twisting feeling settled in her chest and she'd not been able to understand why some people in the wizarding community hated others like herself so badly.

She didn't ask to be born with magic in a non-magical family. She remembered being scared and nervous when her magic made things happen that she couldn't explain to her parents.

It had seemed like a curse when she was younger. All that changed when Professor McGonagall appeared in her living room with her Hogwarts letter. Acceptance, understanding, and answers were all there for the first time.

One conversation with the likes of Draco Malfoy had ripped it all away again.

She didn't belong. They viewed her as a mistake. Magic that had escaped and was meant for someone else, not a muggle-born.

"It's faded," she finally spoke. She hesitated for a moment before touching it with her fingertips, stupidly afraid it might do something. "And colder than the rest of your skin," she frowned.

"Always has been." Feeling the limits of his willpower at their end, he pulled his sleeve down and hid it again. "I didn't really want it, you know. I know I talked a big game and regurgitated everything my father ever said but when it came time, I realized I didn't want it."

"You never were that person then."

"Yes, I was. I wouldn't have said the things I did with so much conviction if I wasn't."

Hermione turned to sit on the edge of her bed again. "You were a child just like the rest of us. You had no real concept of what you were saying. You just wanted your father to accept you."

"I had my own mind and I didn't use it."

"You'd been indoctrinated, Draco. Perhaps maybe you did believe some of those things but I don't think you do now."

Draco's eyes met hers faster than lighting. "I don't. I haven't for longer than you'll probably believe."

Hermione chewed her lower lip and glanced at her hands as they lay in her lap. "These things between us aren't going to go away overnight. I'm not that naïve. I don't know what we'll be to each other a year from now but I know that I don't want to hate you or avoid you."

"I don't want that either," he swallowed. "I find I quite like being around you."

She released a breathy laugh and shook her head, curls shaking as she did so. "Sorry, it's just not something I would have ever thought to hear coming out of your mouth." She met his eyes again and this time her own were brighter. "I find I quite like being around you, too. I suppose I wouldn't have let you kiss me earlier if I didn't." She scooted further onto the bed and patted the mattress next to her. "Now that we've gotten all of that off our chests, it's late and I'm tired. Come lay down, Draco."

Draco stood slowly and stared at the sheets next to her. He felt oddly numb and empty. He remembered feeling something like it right after his trial at the ministry.

"Are you sure?"

Hermoine settled onto her side under the covers. "It's either you stay or you have to rub the cream on my back and I put it in my bathroom when I was straightening up the other day. I really don't feel like digging it out right now."

He almost argued the she could have used a simple accio spell to retrieve it but figured she was just tired, thus her lack of logic.

Draco nodded and climbed in gingerly and lay on his side facing her. His brow furrowed when his head hit the pillow and he reached under it and pulled out her wand.

"Old habits die hard," she explained with a slight smile. She took it from him and set it on her nightstand instead.

Hermione swallowed nervously as she turned back to him. She lifted her head and pressed a soft kiss against his lips before she settled on her pillow again and closed her eyes.

"Goodnight, Draco."

Draco stared at her for a moment in the dark before he smiled to himself. "Goodnight, Hermione."