Closer

He laid her down gently, draping a blanket over her body and watching as the thin material shaped to each of her curves. In that moment Hermione Granger looked calm, at peace, in complete serenity. There wasn’t anything that could harm in her in her dreams. No dark wizards. Nothing. It made his insides tighten and then release, several times over, as though he was fighting the urge to join her, hold her, touch her.

To think they had almost kissed was enough to detonate each and every one of Draco’s senses. He hadn’t expected anything to come of this charade. And perhaps nothing would, but the thought of that drove him up and down the walls of the Manor with disappointment. He realized something that night. He realized there was another reason Hermione’s name had left his lips.

She wasn’t just a brilliant witch.

She was a brilliant woman, a beautiful woman.

The simple way her hair bounced when she walked caught his attention. Not to mention the twinkle in her eyes at the mention of books, knowledge, academia. She was an intellectual through and through. He had never met another girl who could challenge him in that way. It wasn’t even a matter of challenging him. Hermione soared past him and beyond the horizon.

Krum had his broomstick. Lovegood had her imagination. Potter had his bravery. Weasley had his loyalty. Weaslette had her sharp tongue. Draco had his riches. And Hermione had her mind, the most powerful tool of them all.

The young man slowly stepped back, making motion to turn away until he felt a delicate hand curve around his wrist. Draco glanced to the bed and saw her big, chocolate brown eyes staring at him in a daze.

“Stay,” she said in a small voice.

He had reached an impasse. Draco knew for a fact she wouldn’t be asking him to say were she sober, but in the same breath he couldn’t deny her, not then, not after their long night of ups and downs.

“You should sleep,” he said carefully, brushing the hair from her face. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Her lips trembled for a moment. “Please. Don’t leave.”

And that was all it took – that look of innocence and exposure. Draco shrugged off his jumper and unlaced his boots, all the while keeping his eyes connected with hers. He saw that girl again, the same girl who panicked through her entire wedding and cried on her balcony in the face of her husband. She might not have been sober, but she needed him, and as the young man slid under the sheets beside her, he came to one giant conclusion.

He needed her just as bad.

short chapter! it felt wrong ending it any other way. hope you enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it, and don't forget to give me some feedback :) good or bad, i always appreciate a review.

xo.