A/N - Written for Orange Lerio for the Christmas Gift Giveaway 2013.
Prompt: "everything" by lifehouse with a little bit of Draco. Ending Harmony.
The first time she felt the need to go to him, she didn't. It was stupid, she told herself. It was mad and ridiculous and the last thing her best friend needed to hear was how she was left standing in Muggle London because the person she was dating—the same person who everyone told her not to—didn't bother telling her that he will not be coming.
She knew about the opposition to their relationship from both sides, and she knew he was flighty, but that didn't mean she could appreciate the fact that when he ran, he ran without her.
It was an hour later when his Patronus appeared in front of her, saying how sorry he was, what an idiot he was and begging her to forgive him.
How ridiculous would it be to end something on a mistake he made, she thought. She was stronger than that. She shouldn't let small things like this get to her. But before she could give him her answer, she decided to visit the one person who would never judge her for whatever decision she intended to make.
Harry was friendly and welcoming as always, and when she snuggled against him, burying her face against his warm, woolly jumper so that he couldn't see her face and silently watched telly with him, he didn't ask her anything more than, "Are you okay?"
She shrugged, she snuggled further into him and told him that she's fine.
She only wished that her relationship with Draco Malfoy was as simple as watching telly on a Friday night.
The second time she felt the need to go to him, she gave into her impulse and went to him immediately. It didn't matter that they were both attending a function at the Ministry of Magic for their heroism that had happened years ago. Harry nicked an important bottle of Ogden's finest and they spelled their way into the closest empty office so they could sit on Trixie Dorinton's large, oak desk and drink together.
She threw off her shoes and sat cross-legged on the desk, letting her lavender robes fall rumpled around her while Harry removed his jacket, loosened his tie and then proceeded to pace the length of the desk in front of her as he listened intently to what she needed to say. Hermione would have found the image amusing had she not been so devastated.
"You need to break up with him," he said strongly as he took a swig of the liquor and gave her the bottle.
Hermione shook her head. "I refuse to give up." Her sip was smaller, more tentative, but no less potent. "You know what I gave up for him, Harry. Ron hates me—"
"He doesn't hate you."
She gave him a meaningful look as she handed him the bottle. "He hates me. I broke up with him for Draco."
Harry winced. "Don't say that."
"Say what?" she asked amongst her own giggles. "His name?"
His laugh was dry. "It's weird. Call him Malfoy."
"I'm not calling him Malfoy." She yanked the bottle from him before he could take another sip from it and took a delicate sip of her own.
"Okay, I might be saying this because I'm a little bit drunk but—"
"Should I be worried?" she asked with a teasing tone.
He snorted. "Why are you with him? He ditched you! Again!"
Hermione stared at him in surprise, allowing him to take the bottle from her.
"How do you know this is not the first time?" she asked carefully.
Harry, who had been playful only a moment before, sobered instantly. He took his rightful place beside her so he could pull her to him and let her head settle on his shoulder.
"Because I know you," he muttered against her hair. "I don't like this, Hermione," he said seriously, using a tone that she knew he hadn't used because he was her only friend at the moment. "He should treat you better."
"I know. But I should try, shouldn't I? I can't just give up. Everyone treats me so much differently now that I'm with him. They expect us to fail. I can't sit back and let that happen."
She waited quietly as he let out a low breath. He was steeling himself to tell her something he thought she wouldn't want to hear, and she knew him well enough that the way his fingers played with the ends of her hair was a blatant sign of it.
"I think you should seriously think about it," he said cautiously. "If Malfoy can't put up with a few really bad Death Eater jokes to support you… I think that says something."
"He's been through so much, Harry. I can understand where he's coming from."
"Okay, we're not going to talk about that again, because you know that I think he acted like a prat..."
She turned her face into his shoulder so she could snort out a reply, and his responding chuckle only made her giggle just a little bit louder.
He sobered quickly, his hand stroking her back only making a happy shiver travel up her spine as she shifted closer to him.
"You're the last person I ever expected to wait around for a man, Hermione," he said sadly.
And out of all the things people had told her about her relationship, that was what hurt the most.
The third time she felt the need to go to him, it really wasn't the third time. She had started to lose count, or at least, that's what she told people when secretly she knew that she was nearing double digits which was her own level of pathetic.
Despite the shape her best friend was in, she couldn't help but show up unannounced at Grimmauld Place and speak her mind about the matter.
"You're an idiot."
"Thanks." He winced when she lightly dabbed her handkerchief against the corner of his mouth. She might have pressed a bit harder than it was required, but that was hardly the point.
She watched as the potion she had dabbed on the handkerchief took effect and healed the cut. She used the rest to wipe away the smudge of blood.
"What were you thinking?"
Harry stepped away from her and put on his glasses, wincing once against as he rotated his shoulder. "I was thinking…" he said darkly, "that you need to break up with him."
"We are fine!" she said defensively.
He narrowed his eyes at her. "You are not fine. Hermione!" He let out a sarcastic laugh. "He is using you!"
"You mean like Ginny?" she asked sarcastically.
His eyes darkened. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I mean," she faltered for a moment, suddenly unsure whether she should continue what she had always intended to tell him, as long as the time was right, which she realised, this was not it. But she pushed on anyway. "The only reason you're with Ginny is because you have invested just as much in that relationship as I have done with Draco. You don't want to admit that you're no longer in love with each other."
He blinked at her for a moment before he turned on his heel and started walking away, but Hermione wasn't done yet.
"You know I'm right about this, Harry. You told me once that you don't even miss her when you don't see each other for a few weeks. That means something."
He stopped suddenly to turn on her, his eyes blazing. "And Malfoy is better? He might care about you, I don't know if he does, but he doesn't treat you the way he should."
"He doesn't hit me, Harry," she said darkly. "He doesn't say mean things to me. You make him sound abusive when he isn't."
"No, he just neglects you. What Ginny and I have—"
"Had," she said strongly.
"Have is mutual respect."
Hermione snorted, earning an incredulous look from her best friend. "If you have such a great relationship, why didn't you call her?"
His shoulders deflated, almost as if he had gotten caught in a lie. "I didn't want to worry her."
"You called me."
"Because I wanted you to know that your boyfriend hit me when I tried to talk some sense into him."
"Funny," she muttered sarcastically. "I heard that you hit him first."
He blinked at her in surprise. "You spoke to him?"
"No, genius." She shoved his shoulders, enjoying how that small action made her feel infinitely better. "There were witnesses."
She shoved him again, only for him to step back and take that feeling of content away from her when she didn't cause him to move. "Hermione…" She shoved him again, and again, and each time he stepped back it only made her want to hurt him just a little bit extra for being so completely daft.
He grabbed a hold of her hands and pulled her towards him, his chest heaving as unevenly as hers. "Stop that."
She blinked up at him, suddenly close—too close—the recesses of her brain told her. His glance fell on her lips briefly and she could sense a certain panic rise in him that mirrored her own. She felt strong, defiant, and she said the word without thought as to its meaning.
His eyes flitted down to her lips once more before meeting her own, and after an agonising minute, he kissed her.
His lips weren't as tentative as she would have expected. He was forceful in the way he kissed her, almost claiming her in that one moment while she allowed it. His hands fisted in her jumper as her own fisted in his hair, and it was a challenge to manoeuvre themselves to the closest surface where he could lift her easily and place her on the dining room table.
Her jumper and blouse came off easily enough, her bra following soon after. He nipped at her neck and jaw as his hands worked the zipper of her jeans, and she peppered warm, wet kisses across his bare chest and shoulders the moment she managed to lift his own jumper over his head.
His tongue swiped across her skin, making her moan out loud as he finally managed to divest her of her jeans and knickers. As she finally pushed down his own, Harry slowed down, the kisses becoming more languid and soft as he placed her down gently and showered her with attention on her breasts, her stomach and her hip.
When he kissed her once again, deeply, as if he was telling her something that he couldn't tell her otherwise, he pulled back to look at her carefully. "Are you sure?"
Hermione nodded as she hooked her leg over his hip and took him in hand. She pulled him closer by his hair and buried her face against his neck as she led him to her wet heat. "Yes," she whispered, just as he entered her, a moan escaping her as she felt him fill her perfectly.
They started slow; slow kisses, breathy sighs and even a moment of laughter when she accidently tickled him and made him squirm. But she bucked against him to make him go faster, and before long, he was thrusting into her hard and fast, and she was arching her back to meet him as much as she could. He whispered things in her ear, calling her beautiful and perfect while she clung onto him tightly and said how much she loved him.
Her eyes widened and he stopped above her, making her squirm with the need to reach that pleasure peak that was so close.
"Harry…" She regretted saying it. Of course she did. They weren't there yet. But he should have known by now. Surely, he should have known. "I didn't mean—"
He kissed her, carefully just as he began moving again, and when he pulled back so he could bury his face against her hair, he whispered that he loved her as well; more than anything.
He quickened his pace, and she met him thrust for thrust, and before long, his fingers caressed her bundle of nerves where they were joined so that they both could come apart together.
Harry found himself so tired that he made a spectacle of falling onto the hard floor while pulling a giggling Hermione after him. They caught their breath, Hermione hiding her face with embarrassment while he placed light kisses across her forehead and hair.
"We did something bad, didn't we?" she asked finally, unable to hide behind the happy moment for long.
Harry nodded, his fingers lightly tracing her spine and making her shiver. "Yeah."
"We need to fix it."
He nodded again. "Yeah."
She knew there were things that needed to be done, but at the same time, the last thing she wanted to do was separate herself from him. "Maybe tomorrow?" she asked tentatively.
Harry gently lifted her chin with his thumb so he could look at her properly. "You and I both know that you won't be happy until we settle it all now."
"Are you sure?"
He kissed her nose. "I'm sure." Bending down, he captured her lips in a deep kiss that made her toes curl.
There wasn't any harm in staying for a few more minutes, was there?