Pairing: Draco x Hermione
Setting: After books; not really taking the last one or two into consideration
Summary: Drabble; after having broken up almost a year ago, Draco comes back to do what he'd always wanted to.
Hermione sighed as she took off her scarf and mittens. It was blasted cold outside, she thought to herself as she slouched. The office had been a madhouse – as usual – and she was in no mood for anything other than a nice hot chocolate and a warm glow from the fire.
Little did she know that someone was waiting for her. She caught sight of his pale blonde hair in the firelight, a rock settling in the bottom of her stomach. Hadn't he given her keys back? She sighed again. This was just turning out to not be her day, after all. "Malfoy, I took the keys from you when we broke up because we broke up."
It was hard to imagine them over – the whirlwind of emotions and ups and downs that he'd taken her through… it was hard to let it all go. But she was older now. They'd broken up almost a year ago. She knew things better – like that just because you slept with a man didn't mean he gave a damn about you. It did mean that he knew which breast filled his hand better, and which position made you moan the most, but beyond that…
She slammed her purse on the countertop, tears threatening. She'd done her best to avoid Malfoy. She'd changed jobs, even. She hadn't been terribly fond of her old job, so Hermione supposed it wasn't really that large of a sacrifice.
He hadn't moved from the sofa. She could see his foot moving, folded at the ankles as he lounged. Memories, as vivid as if they were yesterday flashed in her mind – nails creeping up skin and a soft groan torn from her throat as she finally gave in and how pale and lovely his skin looked, felt, tasted – she clamped down on them. Silly little girl thoughts, she told herself firmly as she rounded the couch to face him.
He was wearing that sweater she loved on him. It was a blue that almost matched his eyes – washed out and faded to almost grey – lovingly clashing with his hair. Hermione bit her bottom lip as she crossed her arms. The way his eyes moved up her, the slow, seductive movement, as his head moved to look at her before his eyes caught up, lingering on her.
"I don't suppose you'd believe me if I told you that the door was left unlocked, would you?" He drawled, one eyebrow delicately arched over his eyes. She hated him at that moment. He was so blank, giving her nothing to work with.
"No, I wouldn't," she snapped immediately, her forehead creasing as she frowned.
"That's good. Because it wasn't." His eyes were still on her, watching her face. When he stood, it was graceful, making his willowy frame seem so lithe. She hated that. He was taller than her, ganglier, and yet he had more grace than she'd ever managed to possess.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" She couldn't keep the hurt out of her voice. He'd broke up with her, opting instead to stay within his mother's good graces and keep his inheritance. She had never forgiven him.
Now that he was standing, she had to look up to see him, her chin stuck out stubbornly, her arms still crossed over her chest. She wouldn't admit that the mere thought of him still made her teary, and she wasn't about to admit that she hadn't seriously dated since him. She was taking a break. She wasn't hung up on him. It was just a break.
There was a hint of a smile at his lips as he handed her a package with an eyebrow still raised. "Happy Holidays, Granger." She took the package, wondering in the back of her dazed mind why Malfoy would be giving her anything. His familiar smell overwhelmed her – she wanted nothing more than to hug him close and bury her face in his neck. His hand graced her jaw lightly as he cupped her face before sweeping out of her flat, his jacket trailing behind him.
Hermione sat down heavily. Her face felt warm and tingly from his touch, the flush on her cheeks still burning. She hated how he did that. How he could act so aloof and cool, and how her heart started racing at the mere mention of his name.
The box was small, ornately decorated in blue velvet with gold swirls. It was flattish, and fit in her hand easily. Hesitantly, half expecting a prank, she opened the lid, pushing aside the delicate ribbon as she did so. Penned in his familiar handwriting – on letters, notes, bills, still scattered about her flat – was a simple note: "Something I should have done long ago, love."
Beneath the note – the shine catching her attention – was a ring. She hadn't realized she was crying until her tears fell to the note, blurring the letters together as she cried, hard.
She should've known he wouldn't have gone far. Hermione hadn't heard the door open or close, but she felt him wrapping his arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer as she reached out to hug him close.
With her hand tangled in his hair, she managed to mutter between the tears, "You took so long, I should beat you."
Draco nipped at her ear gently as he quietly replied, "Save it for the honeymoon, dear."
Later, as she lay in his lap, his fingers gently tracing her collarbone, Hermione snuggled into him. Perhaps today had been a rotten day… but she knew that tonight eclipsed any other night she could dare to think of.
And she wouldn't have it any other way.
A/N: Happy holidays, all. ;) Thought I'd give you a bit of an update just to say I'm still alive, stories are coming along (slowly) and holidays are just… blah sometimes. Whooo, us. (Hopefully more one-shots on the way to help me kick my brain into writing mode.)