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Victim of the Fall	By : PrettyDesdemona Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 32726 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 7
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any of its characters. I do not make any money off this story. Only love!

Chapter List
- 20
- 21
- 22
CHAPTER 21

CRIME FOR CRIME

"Guilt and innocence, they are a matter of degree, what might be justice to you, might not be justice to me."

Draco and Hermione worked tireless for many hours, stirring clockwise and anti-clockwise, adding ingredients and consulting the recipe.

Draco had long since commandeered her record player and had been playing DJ all afternoon while they brewed the Zeitei Otrava. Hermione found him more of an expert on her collection than she was and when he wasn't stirring or slicing, he was emphatically pawing through her records informing her that she had to listen to this or pay attention to the lyrics in that.

"I was surprised when you told me your mother listened to muggle music." said Hermione around dinnertime as Draco placed yet another record onto the player.

He shrugged, "She used to say that the language of music transcended race."

"Didn't your father mind?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, he minded. She never played them around him though. He pretended like he didn't know she did it, but he did. There wasn't much that went on in the Manor that he didn't know about." he replied.

Hermione frowned. Yes, by the sounds of it, Draco had never had an easy life. One full of material pleasures and abundance, always, but when he spoke of Lucius, his voice was always laced with a touch of resentment and fear.

"How long will he be in Azkaban?" Hermione asked, hoping that she wasn't overstepping a boundary.

"Life." Draco responded darkly.

His tone made Hermione shrink away from the subject. He set the needle down on the record and Vivaldi poured into the space.

"Here," she said over the music, "My arm's starting to hurt, can you take over?"

He nodded and took the stirring rod out of her hand.

Hermione sat back on the couch, rubbing her sore neck. Her whole body was tense with anticipation at being able to take the Zeitei Otrava and see her own magic moving around her. "Only twenty five more clockwise stirs then we have to let it simmer for the next eight hours."

"So when will it be done?"

"Two am." she said with a chuckle, "But we don't have to take it right away. It can be stored."

Draco shrugged, "We'll play it by ear. Oh, listen to the violins here. Fucking brilliant."

Hermione obliged and listened. As always, he was right. It was brilliant. She watched him as he stared intently into the potion, stirring clockwise slowly, his lips moving soundlessly as he counted each rotation of the stirring rod.

There was something about him, Hermione realised, that made her think. When she caught Ron in moments like this, and simply watched him as he worked, her mind was blissfully blank and comfortable. With Draco it was ceaselessly chattering, questions and possible answers zipping from one synapse to the other at speed. She was so used to it now, that it barely registered.

He was sinking into her life, into her space. It was like she was a jar full of gravel, and he was sand, pouring into all of the empty spaces between the rocks. But, much to her confusion, Hermione found she was comfortable with that. It didn't bother her like she thought it should. Of course, she wasn't keen on furthering that into whatever he might want from her, no, but to leave it as it was, that was ok.

Draco and Hermione were simple together, really. The dynamic was established. Sure, there were hard parts about her friendship with him, but they seemed to flow through them fairly easily. Hermione was grateful for this. With Ron and Harry, if they were angry with her, they stayed angry for days, weeks. Draco and her would yell it out and get over it.

"Done." he said, dropping the stirring rod onto her coffee table with a clatter and breaking Hermione out of her reverie.

She leant over to inspect the potion. As per Teodora's recipe, it was glowing slightly, an iridescent purple. She nodded in approval, wishing again that she could sample it there and then. "Right. Well, now we just have to occupy ourselves for the rest of the night."

"Dinner?" he asked, shrugging.

"Sure." she responded.

"What have you got?"

Hermione rubbed her eyes wearily, "I really don't know." she thought for a moment about the contents of her pantry, not relishing the idea of preparing a meal after she'd spent the better part of the day brewing. "Why don't we go out?" she asked after a moment.

Draco looked dubious at this. "Where?"

"We could go out into muggle London. It's New Years Eve. Something's bound to be happening…"

"I don't know…" he said, sounding apprehensive.

"Come on, Draco. Live a little." she laughed. "It'll be fun."

Fifteen minutes later, the two of them were striding towards the Leaky Cauldron, scarves and cloaks pulled tight around their bodies to ward off the stinging cold. The street was dark but alive with people out celebrating the arrival of the New Year.

They pushed their way through the cramped pub, Draco holding onto the back of Hermione's cloak so he didn't lose her in the crowd. They both kept their heads down, and their hoods pulled up over their faces to avoid being recognised. They emerged out into bustling London, the cold stinging their faces slightly. Draco looked up and down the street, his eyes wide and cautious.

Hermione elbowed him playfully, "It's alright. We're safe."

He scoffed, "What, you think I'm scared?"

He made a show of stepping away from her to show his apparent courage. Hermione had to grab a hold of the back of his cloak and yank him back onto the pavement when he unwittingly strode into oncoming traffic.

Car horns screeched as Hermione pulled him around to face her. "Draco, if you are hit by a car, you will die, alright?!"

He frowned. "What's a car?"

"Oh my god, did you not take Muggle Studies?!" When he shook his head bemusedly, she rolled her eyes and pointed at the busy road, "Those big, loud, moving metal things."

"Oh. Right." he pointed at a passing shiny Astin Martin, "I like that one."

Hermione laughed, "Of course you do. Come on."

She linked an arm through his in order to keep him close so he wouldn't do anything else that might get him killed. They began to wander down the street away from the Leaky Cauldron, weaving through their fellow pedestrians. Hermione wasn't worried about their robes or cloaks drawing stares. Being New Years Eve, most people were dressed strangely; so she and Draco did not stand out in the slightest.

After walking a couple of blocks, with Draco staring around at the muggle world in a sort of contemptuous awe, Hermione noticed a homelessman, sitting slumped in a doorway to a shop. She approached him, dug into her beaded bag and produced a ten pound note, handing it to the man and wishing him a happy new year. He smiled up at her and returned the sentiment. Draco gave her a sideways looked as they moved off again.

"Why did you do that?" he asked, perplexed.

"Because he's homeless." she replied.

"So?"

"So, it's New Years Eve and he might be hungry." she said with a shrug, unable to see why her companion thought her behaviour so strange.

"But why did you give him money?"

"Because he doesn't have any."

"How do you know?"

Hermione sighed at his relentless questioning. "Would you choose to spend New Years Eve slumped in a doorway looking like you hadn't showered in three weeks?"

"No, but these are muggles." he said, as if this were obvious.

Hermione swiftly withdrew her arm from Malfoy's and glared at him. "It's that kind of bigoted, pureblood supremacy bullshit that makes me weep for the future of our world, Malfoy."

He had the good grace to look marginally guilty. "Sorry. I wasn't thinking. I've just never been out in the muggle world before."

Hermione pointed a finger at him, her voice stern. "Well it's time you started to get it into your head that being a muggle does not make someone dirty or not worthy of your notice. Look around you, do all of these people look like that man did?" he shook his head. "Exactly. So they are not all the same. Nevertheless, that man doesn't have what we have. He doesn't have money or a home or a family to go to. We have. That's why I gave him money. So that I could share some of my own blessings with someone who, for whatever reasons, doesn't have any."

Draco thought about this for a moment, as if rolling the new concepts she was introducing him to around in his head to see how they tasted. "But what if he was just pretending so that people would do that?"

Hermione shrugged. "You're not the first person to say that. But, I don't care, better to be safe than sorry. I might have just given ten pounds to a conman or someone who really needed it. I'm happy to take the risk." she said defiantly. "It's not just people in the wizarding world who suffer."

Malfoy nodded but remained silent, his brow creased in thought. Hermione spotted a café open a way down the street and linked her arm back through Draco's in order to steer them towards it.

"Come on, let's get out of the cold." she said.

He followed her into the warmth of the somewhat busy eatery and together, they made their way toward the counter. Hermione stared up at the blackboard suspended behind the cashier as they joined the line.

"Do you see anything you like?" she asked Draco.

He stared up at the board for a moment before shrugging, "This is your wheelhouse. You can pick."

Hermione smiled, "Alright then."

When it came to their turn to order, she smiled at the girl behind the til. "Hi! Could I get two hot chocolates and two sausage rolls please? Oh, and a plate of chips with garlic aioli."

The girl smiled warmly at Draco, who did not seem to notice, and handed Hermione a metal stand with a number on cardboard at the top. She made off to prepare their order as Hermione led Draco towards a table by the window.

Hermione unwound the scarf from around her neck as she sat down on a somewhat uncomfortable metal chair, her companion doing the same. He seemed, for the moment, to have either run out of questions or was disinclined to risk asking them. She was marginally grateful for this, wanting to lose herself in her environment rather than concentrating on trying to tell Draco about the muggle world. It felt rather odd to be out and about again, but she found that living and acting like a muggle was like riding a bike, one never forgets how to do it.

"So how far do you live from here?" he asked her after a few minutes silence.

"My parents don't live in London; our house is in Cotswolds." she replied, "About forty minutes away from here."

"It's still theirs?"

Hermione nodded, "I figured they'd want to be able to come back to it at some point. What about you? Where's the Manor?"

"Wiltshire."

"I've never been in that part of the country before, aside from… Well…" she'd been trying hard not to stick her foot in her mouth as it was, but had nevertheless, failed. The only memory she had of Wiltshire was being tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange. "Is it nice?" she floundered.

Draco smiled slightly at her slip before saying, "It's beautiful. I could show you sometime if you like."

"That would be lovely." she responded, more because she didn't want the conversation to go down the dark and sticky road it seemed to be heading.

Thankfully, the waitress appeared then with their hot chocolates and food. She smiled winningly at Malfoy and said, "If you need anything, just let me know." in a sultry voice, without even glancing at Hermione.

As the girl walked away, swinging her hips in what she undoubtedly thought was a sexy way, Hermione rolled her eyes.

"What's wrong with you?" asked Draco, perplexed.

"That waitress." she replied.

"What about her?"

Hermione laughed. "She was flirting with you."

He gaped at her, "Was she?!" he proceeded to crane his head over the crowded café, attempting to catch a glimpse of the girl in question.

Hermione grabbed a chip and plunged it into the small bowl of garlic aioli, shaking her head and smiling at his behaviour. "You really haven't spent much time around women, have you Draco?"

He settled back into his seat and poked at his crumbly sausage roll uncertainly. "No. Not really."

"I still don't understand how that's possible." she said.

"Why not?"

"Because you're… You. You're all suave and arrogant. Women love that sort of thing. Well… Most women." her tone was dark, as if she thought that women who found this sort of thing attractive were a waste of space.

"Not you?"

Hermione scoffed, "Absolutely not."

He looked frustrated, as if he was trying to work out a hard mathematical problem. "But you dated Krum didn't you? In fourth year?"

She laughed, "Yes, but would you honestly describe him as suave and arrogant?"

"No, I guess not." he said, frowning slightly again. Suddenly, something appeared to click into place in his head and he smiled knowingly, "I know what you're into. Notoriety."

"Excuse me?!" Hermione gasped, almost choking on her mouthful of sausage roll.

"You're excused." he said casually, taking a sip of his hot chocolate, "Think about it, Granger. First Krum, an internationally famous quidditch player; then Mclaggen, personal friend of Rufus Scrimgeour; then Weasley, right hand man of the famous Harry Potter. You kind of have a pattern."

Hermione laughed indignantly, "I do not have a pattern!"

"I think you might." he chuckled.

They ate in silence for a moment as Hermione considered Draco's words. He had indeed provided her with a complete list of all her romances, excluding, of course, George Weasley and Dean Thomas who she'd kissed on a whim one night in her fifth year. They hadn't gone any further than that.

She didn't like to think that she could be shallow in the way Draco was describing and really, couldn't see the logic in it. With Victor, it hadn't been his fame that had drawn her to him, more the fact that she was greatly flattered that he'd really liked her. At that point, not many people had. She was sort of an ugly duckling. Mclaggen was, of course, only a ploy to make Ron jealous of which she was ridiculously embarrassed. What a mistake that had been. Arrogant git. And she had kissed Dean simply because her feelings for Ron were beginning to form and she'd felt freaked out and wanted to see if she could really like anyone else. Obviously it hadn't worked. Because in the end, she didn't just like Ron, she'd loved him. Even though they had very little in common, he was a breath of fresh air to her, strong and commanding. She didn't need protection, but he protected her anyway. She liked that. He was there for her when she was too tired, too injured or too sad to defend herself.

Or he had been, once.

Hermione's mind began falling into a black fog; as it always did when she spent too much time thinking of Ron. She didn't feel, anymore, like she was still in love with him. That had gone away quite some time ago. She didn't miss him or pine for him, really. She just felt hurt that he'd rejected her. He'd had his time to evaluate her and had ended it by declaring her entire some of parts unsuitable. That was painful and something she wasn't entirely sure how to move past. In her mind, Ron was alright as he was, sure he was flawed, but they were flaws she could accept. Apparently he did not feel the same way about her.

"Granger?" Draco's voice broke through her thoughts.

"Mmm?" she responded distantly.

"Come back to earth." he said, laughing.

"Right." she looked down, noticing that they had both finished their food. "I'll go pay, then perhaps we could catch a cab to the Thames and watch the fireworks?" she looked at her watch, "It's just after ten and it'll take a while to get into the city properly."

Draco shrugged his ascent and stood to follow her over to the counter. Hermione paid the girl behind the til, fighting the urge to roll her eyes as the girl smiled and giggled ridiculously at Draco who, to Hermione's amusement, seemed entirely at a loss as to what to do.

They walked back out into the cold street and Hermione immediately began trying to hail a taxi.

"What are you doing?" he asked as he watched her stand on the curb, staring out into the oncoming traffic, looking for a cab.

"I'm hailing a cab." Hermione replied, throwing her arm into the air as a taxi approached them.

"What's a cab?"

"It's a car that we can pay to take us where we want to go." the taxi continued past them and Hermione swore loudly.

"You want me to get into one of these metal death traps?!" asked Draco, scandalised.

"Yes, Draco. You'll be fine." she responded with a roll of her eyes.

After another few attempts, a cab finally crossed several lanes of traffic at speed and screeched to a halt, almost mounting the gutter in front of them. Hermione opened one of the back doors and climbed inside. Draco followed her awkwardly.

"Where to, love?" asked the driver over his shoulder.

"Piccadilly Circus please." she responded.

"Won't be able to take you all the way in, with these crowds." the driver grunted.

"That's fine." she said, turning to Draco who was pressed uncomfortably into the worn leather seat looking a little freaked out. "Here, you have to put on your seat belt."

"My what?" he asked shakily.

"Your seat belt. It's so that you don't go flying through the windscreen if the car crashes." she slid across the seat as a stricken look plastered itself across his face. Hermione smiled reassuringly and leant across his body to grasp the buckle and pull it around his chest. She was just clicking it into the holster when the cab pulled away from the curb and she was pushed into Draco's lap.

"Sorry! Hold on." with effort, she dragged herself over to the other side of the car and belted herself in.

Draco looked absolutely terrified.

"How fast are we going?" he asked in a small voice.

Hermione wisely chose not to answer this as the taxi swerved and weaved through traffic. They weren't going all that fast, but she was sure that even if she had said they were going five kilometres an hour, Draco would still have wet himself. As the ride progressed, he began to look paler and paler and she began to seriously worry about how well he was handling their jaunt into London. He was completely out of his element.

She felt so sorry for him and he looked so terrified, that she laid a hand on his and grasped his fingers in attempt to reassure him.

Instantly, the terrified look was gone from his face. He stared at her, open mouthed, as the lights of the passing streetlamps sliced through the dark interior of the car. Hermione smiled and turned to look out the window, keeping a firm hold of his hand. She did this because she knew that in order for him to be letting her take him out of the wizarding world like this, he must trust her a great deal. She liked that he trusted her and wanted to give something back. So she held his hand while he was scared.

The almost forty minute journey passed in this silent attitude, Hermione gazing out the window as London flashed past her eyes, her palm cocooning Draco's fingers. They did not speak, and Hermione suspected that this was because if he did, he might vomit.

The car eventually pulled up by a curb.

"Can't go no further, love. The crowds, see?" said the cabbie.

"That's quite alright." said Hermione politely, handing him the appropriate amount of money and exiting the cab.

Draco climbed out onto the street and went immediately to lean heavily against the obliging wall of a nearby building.

"You alright?" she asked, laying a hand on his shoulder.

He shook his head. "Never again." was all he said.

Hermione suspected he might have motion sickness and suggested that he walk it off. She looped her arm through his as they ploughed through the dense crowd. After walking for some time, Draco seemed to have perked up considerably and they decided to stop at one of the many food stalls set up along the banks of the Thames. Hermione ordered them a chai tea and a Spanish donut each.

With their newly acquired food, she found them a patch of unoccupied grass and discreetly conjured a blanket for them to sit on. Hermione checked her watch as she sat down. It was eleven thirty.

"The fireworks will start soon. It's almost midnight." she said to Draco who was slumped beside her on the blanket, sipping his tea and munching on his donut.

He nodded to show he'd heard her. "Is this how you spend every New Year?"

"No, mostly I'm at Hogwarts aren't I? But when I'm not, there's usually a party or something near my parents house that we go to." Hermione tore off a chunk of her donut and said through her mouthful, "What about you? What's New Years like at the Manor?"

"Well, my father gets drunk." he said, laughing. "And my mother throws a party for all of wizarding high society. It's very… Grand." he scrunched up his face to show his distaste at this.

Hermione chuckled, "I can imagine… Do you miss it?"

"A little. I miss bits of it. I always used to steal a bottle of firewhisky and drink it in the kitchen with Crabbe and Goyle and Pansy." he laughed, his eyes glazing as the memory seeped through his mind, "I remember once my father caught us, when I was about thirteen. He sent the others away and they all thought he was going to crucio me, but instead he just sat down and drank with me. We drank the whole bottle." he smiled fondly.

Hermione frowned at his recollection of Lucius. There was no fear or hurt in his voice and this wasn't typical to what she knew of him. "Do you miss your father, Draco?" she asked quietly.

He screwed up his eyes in thought. "I don't really know. I miss normal, you know? I miss it being him and mother and me at the Manor every summer holidays and every Christmas. He wasn't always a good man, I don't think. He was angry a lot and he could be cruel. But that was just him, so I accepted it. He expected a lot from me which I think fucked with me a bit. His expectations were pretty out there. But I respected him, that's why I wanted to make him happy." he paused for a moment, thinking, "I don't want him around right now. I think he'd just make life harder. But it… it makes me sad that he'll never be around ever again." his voice was slightly thick.

"Do you think he should be let out of Azkaban then?" she asked.

"I want him to be, one day. But I don't think he should be. Whatever I might say about him, Granger, he was an evil man. He was cruel. There were more awful things he did than good. He deserves what he got. My mother on the other hand… She just did what was best for her family. I know no one else can really see that but… I know. She's not a bad person, a little prejudiced, but not evil."

Hermione stared down at her hands for a moment, both grateful and scared that he was sharing all of this with her.

"Just so you know, Draco, I didn't testify against her." she said fervently.

He gave her a long, searching look, his eyes flicking between both of hers as if waiting for one of them to show a lie. "Do you know who did?" he asked slowly.

Hermione shook her head. "No one spoke to me about her trial; I didn't even know it had happened until you told me."

After a moment, he nodded. "I believe you."

Hermione made no response to this, though she felt as if a weight had been lifted from her chest. She hadn't given the matter much thought since he'd told her about the anonymous testimony, but she realised then that the thought that Draco might believe her to be the reason his mother was in gaol had bothered her.

"So have you spoken to Isobel?" he asked after a moment's pause, clearly wishing to steer away from the topic of his mother.

She shook her head. "Not since she left before Christmas."

"She went to Padma's didn't she?"

"Yeah. She'll be back in a couple of days I think." Hermione sipped her chai.

"Are you worried about her?" Draco asked.

Hermione shrugged. "Well, yes, obviously. But I try not to be. I can't change her feelings for her, can I? There's no use in pouring all my energy into being concerned. I just have to make sure she knows I'm there for her should she ever feel the need to… Try again."

He nodded and said, in a low, serious voice, "Did she tell you why she did it?"

Hermione stared intently at her cup of tea. "She did."

Draco nodded again and tore of a chunk of his donut, staring out over the Thames. Hermione waited for him to say something more, praying that he wouldn't. When he remained silent, she relaxed a little.

The sounds of the monumental crowd around them seemed strangely muffled in the space that lay between their bodies. It was a place to be quiet. Having him by her side made her feel, for the first time, separate from the muggles around her. She'd never felt like that before. It had always felt normal to be among them, like she was a part of the masses, just with a slightly odd little eccentricity.

But that feeling was gone now, and Hermione wasn't sure if she really minded that. When she really thought about it, there was nowhere else in the world than she'd rather be than right by Draco's side. There was no other place that fit her better right then.

"Time?" he demanded suddenly.

"Eleven fifty eight." she replied, glancing at her watch, shocked at his sudden outburst.

"Right." he took a deep breath, as if steadying his nerves and Hermione fought the desire to laugh. Was he scared of fireworks too?

She quickly discovered that a fear of fireworks was not the reason for his nervousness.

As the first jet of light streamed up into the sky, exploding with a crack that shook Hermione's eardrums, the crowd had gotten to its feet to cry, "HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

She almost cheered along with them, but Draco had stopped her mouth with a kiss.

It took a moment for this fact to register with her. At first she thought that perhaps he'd just tripped on his feet and fallen on top of her in the fuss. Maybe someone had pushed him. It seemed impossible to her that they could be kissing. Her mind immediately began to chatter madly, drowning out all awareness of anything other than his mouth and her own thoughts.

Hermione considered, for a moment, pushing him away, maybe he deserved that. But she didn't have the heart. He was so nervous; she could feel his breath, uneven and shaky against her face. And what was so bad about kissing him for a minute? It wasn't like he was terrible. In fact, he was really quite un-terrible.

Kissing him felt like kissing anyone, really, lips on lips. It's a nice feeling. She considered that it was always the implications behind kissing that made it exciting, the question of 'what will happen next?' Of course, it was the hormones too. Obviously. That thrill of feeling that started somewhere in her abdomen and shot up into the space behind her eyes. And right then, she was getting those in abundance. His pheromones were reacting very well with her pheromones.

She'd always thought Draco smelt good, though she was now discovering that he tasted good as well. Mostly like chai, but it was laced with something that was familiar to her, something quintessentially him. His mouth tasted like his breath, his sweat, his cologne. Every scent he'd shared with her while they were bent over the cazan, while he leant over her shoulder to point at something in a book she was reading, while he'd dragged her from a freezing lake and cradled her in his arms, was all concentrated in the taste of his mouth.

It felt as if she'd been living above a donut shop all this time, smelling the cinnamon and the batter day and night, but she'd never been in to give any of it a try. Now she was experiencing the sampler, the special. And she wasn't disappointed.

The two of them sat like that, side by side, heads turned to each other, locking only at the lips, with his hand resting lightly, tentatively, on her cheek. Words tumbled around in her mind at a million kilometres an hour.

Hermione decided that she supposed she should be hugging him. That's what you did when you kissed someone wasn't it? Wasn't that appropriate? Polite? But didn't she just want to hug him?

Yes.

It felt nice when she lifted her arms and draped them around his neck. She'd been thinking about hugging him for so long, had experienced the urge to comfort him in some way many times, that it felt good to finally be able to give in and do it. Though perhaps this was not the setting she'd originally visualised.

He seemed to take her sudden movement of returning his embrace as a sign of acquiescence and immediately did something that made her squirm, whether from sheer delight or horror, she didn't know.

His tongue traced the inner line of her closed mouth, flicking at corners of her lips, and when she opened it to let out a delighted or horrified gasp, he let it snake in, his tongue colliding warmly against her own.

Hermione giggled and the sound was so unlike her, so unbelievably girly, that Draco pulled away, looking at her as if she had lost her mind. She thought she might have.

After a moment he laughed too, tangled his hands in her hair, and kissed her again. She let him.

This time, the words didn't clang about it her head. Because, with his hands in her hair, pulling ever so slightly, he'd made it about sex. There was a veiled invitation in the way he was touching her now, that lightly suggested that she move a little bit closer, that she press her body just a little more firmly against his. And Hermione never could think straight about sex. In fact, when engaged in experiences like this, it was one of the few times when her mind remained blissfully blank. Tunnel vision.

After several minutes spent like this, Draco finally pulled away, looking thoroughly kissed. "You're not too bad at that, Granger, not that I have much to compare it to."

Hermione blushed and laughed in spite of herself. "Well, thank you." she felt strangely proud. The last few instances of romantic contact she'd had were not much to remember. It was nice to feel wanted, to feel like someone found her attractive. More than anything, though she couldn't really admit this to herself, it was nice to feel properly attracted to someone else, to feel as if she really liked someone, as a human being. And she liked Draco like that.

She shifted slightly closer to him so that their shoulders and thighs were pressed together. "And by the way," she said, smiling, "I think we can safely assume we're on a first name basis now."

A/N Again, I won't be able to answer your lovely reviews. Still stuck up in the bush! Though it is lovely here.

Hope you all had a wonderful New Year. I know mine was... Interesting. Lol.

xx

The quote at the beginning of this chapter is from Ani Difranco's song Crime for Crime. Her music has served as a huge inspiration for this piece. I own nothing. Thanks Ani!
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Victim of the Fall