time when I actually believe we understand each other. And then you receive this terrible news about your mum," she added, more softly. "And then we're right back to square one and I feel like running after you, calling out to you to please slow down and walk with me."
She paused to cringe at her choice of metaphor." I have no more pride left, Draco. None! What was left of my pride has since packed its bags and moved to a less stressful environment."
Her outburst didn't particularly startle him, though it seemed to have startled her. She put a hand to her forehead.
"I'm sorry. I'm just sick of worrying. About us. Worrying about you is new to me." Her look of sincere exasperation was endearing. "If you haven't noticed, I' m the kind that likes to get involved."
"I gather as much," he muttered. "Look, my mind's not in the best place at the moment" It was Draco at his most honest and he knew that she knew this. "I need time."
Hermione nodded. "I understand. I really do."
Nothing more was said for a long minute. With a resigned sigh, Hermione turned on her heel to leave.
Something sparked in him. It might have been a small burst of irrational panic at her leaving. Blindly, he grabbed a handful of the back her school blouse and held on.
They must have looked silly, her standing two feet away from him and his hand stretched out between them, holding a fistful of white cotton.
"Hermione" he said to her back.
"You can let go," she said, her voice hard.
He sounded desperate. "I can't. That's my problem, isn't it?"
She refused to be moved. "I want you to take the time you need, but don' t give me any more mixed signals. I swear to God, Draco Malfoy, you drive me insane."
"I know. Come here."
"No," she snapped. This was followed by a more soft and hopeful, "why?"
Honesty was the policy of the terminally pussy-whipped, Draco thought. "Because I want to kiss you."
She paused. "And then what?"
"And thenand then you can make me give you all the promises you like. Will that make you happy?"
God, yes! "Yes," she breathed, her relief was tangible. She threw herself into his arms.
Draco held her to him. He savoured her warmth, the soft curls under his nose and her arms wound tightly around him. She was shaking and rambling moist words into the base of his neck.
"I know you're off to do whatever you think you have to do, but a mailing address would be nice..."
He sighed.
"A weekly letter would be ideal..."
"Granger, I-"
"Hell, I'd settle for a postcard every month. I'm not fussy," she interrupted, sardonically.
The wet heat of her mouth on his skin was very nice indeed. His pulse raced and then came the familiar sensation of headiness that assailed him every time he touched her like this. She kissed his Adam's Apple and then started nibbling on the fine, white skin above his collarbone.
"Keep doing that and I promise you Potter's going to catch sight of more than just old wood and leather when he opens that door in a minute to return his broom."
Hermione took this as encouragement. She slid her palms up into his hair and tugged his head down to hers. Draco groaned, caught her mouth and ravaged it.
She gave him her tongue to suck on and he did so, before exploring deeper still, tasting the soft, sensitive spots inside her lower lip.
They were both breathing hard. The magnitude of the kiss erased their past and their problems. It was the type of knowing kiss that should never be an end unto itself. It was supposed to be prelude to more.
They weren' t quiet, either. They spoke nonsensical, half-formed words designed to comfort and calm but the effect was anything but.
Everyone ought to know what it felt like to be kissed like this, Hermione thought, shivering. On the heels of that thought, she idly wondered if it was possible to die from an overdose of goose bumps. He both warmed and chilled her. Her internal thermostat had apparently gone the way of her pride.
Her skirt was bunched up around her thighs. His hands were responsible. They had started at her waist, slipped down to cup her bottom and then dragged her skirt up as they travelled. Hermione edged further up his body, half climbing, aided by his hands sliding under her bottom to support her. She rubbed herself against his hardness, aware that she was still somewhat tender