My Angel | By : bronzbarista Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 7618 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, only JK Rowling does. I also make no money from this story. |
Everything was exploding around her, but it all moved in slow motion. Clods of dirt and grass slowed midair, bodies twirling stopped, and through the haze, smoke, and flashes of green, red, and varying lights she saw him. He stood amongst the chaos, his skin had a slight glow, his eyes flickering with the intensity that it took for him to wield his wand in a way only he could. His clothes, normally so pristine and neat, were torn and bloody, his shirt was ripped open baring his chiseled white chest. The blond hair that was normally combed back had taken a life of its own blowing about wildly at the force of the curses flying past him, narrowly missing his body. He looked so angelic yet dark and vindictive. Half his face was shadowed as he looked right at her; those eyes told her what he could not. This was the last image she saw before pain erupted in her body, and everything resumed moving around her and the sounds of explosions and screams deafened her. The last thought she had before her world went dark was why he looked as if it was he who was the one in agony not her, then the world went black.
Everything was in black and white and she couldn’t understand it. She stood on a corner street in wizarding London looking around. A newspaper blew past and she reached down to snatch it up. It was the Daily Prophet but it was completely blank. She turned it over in her hands several times, whispering reveal spells but getting nothing. In her frustration she ripped it up and stuffed it into a nearby trashcan. The entire city was deserted, not a soul in sight. Just as she was about to break down into tears she heard the jingle of a bell and turned her head to see Him leaning casually against the doorway of the café. He was taller than she remembered, but his skin and hair still held that faint glow. His shirt was a deep blue and the sleeves were rolled to his elbows, the top button under the collar undone with his tie hanging loosely. He wore a black vest over it and slacks that matched, his shoes were expensive leather and pristine. When she reached his eyes, there was no mistaking him. Those eyes that were an alluring mix between a gathering thunder cloud and the ocean in the Caribbean, the color changing to fit his mood. Now they were more blue and creased slightly at the corners due to the smirk he wore on his lips. Her breath hitched only lightly in her throat and she started over to him. As she approached him her heart beat a little bit more quickly, and her breath became a bit labored, not because it exhausted her to walk across the street, but he just looked so…well that was a thought for another time. The wind blew in her direction and she picked up the smell of tea, coffee, and clove, mint, and just a light hint of expensive cologne. Her voice sounded a little shaky even to herself, “Malfoy, what are you doing here?”
Draco watched her walking across the street and couldn’t help but note that his heart fluttering slightly, and his breath hitched. She just looked so damned irresistible in her jumper and muggle jeans. Her hair was the richest shade of mahogany brown and fell smoothly about her shoulders and her eyes were a gorgeous shade of brown with flecks of gold and jade. The way she walked towards him had his eyes wandering to her hips which swayed oh so seductively without her even knowing. He chuckled as her eyes narrowed at him slightly and he slid his hands into his pockets and stood from his reclining position against the door when she said his last name.
“Fancy meeting you here Granger…join me for tea?”
Oh how she wanted to slap that smirk off his face just like she’d done in third year. He was such a prat and he just loved to be that way. Her hands found their way to her hips and she shifted her stance defensively, “And why exactly would I want to join YOU for tea Malfoy? I might contract an STD just being in your presence.” She took a slight step back as if truly concerned for her health and well being. It would have been far more convincing if her eyes hadn’t roamed over his tall figure when she spoke. She didn’t want them to, and had fought to will them to his face, but he just looked so damn hot in that outfit, and the way his hair was cut, and was that stubble…’Hermione get a hold of yourself this instant, it’s MALFOY you’re ogling at…put your eyes back in your head and think clearly,’ she berated herself and looked up into his eyes.
“Come on Granger, I promise not to bite…unless you ask me too,” he grinned and dodged her hand as she took a swipe at him and walked into the empty café.
Hermione gave an exaggerated huff and followed him in and towards a booth in the back against the wide windows. She slid in across from him and sat with her arms folded her chest. He poured two cups of hot Earl Grey and passed one to her after adding two sugars and the right amount of cream, then fixing his own. She stared down into the hot cup of tea with a look of surprise then looked up at him, “how did you know how I take my tea?”
He looked at her with a blond eyebrow perked and sipped his own tea then looked at her, “Granger you’ve always taken your tea with two sugars and light cream, at least that’s how you would tell me you took it.”
Her surprise faded into confusion then apprehension and she nudged the cup of tea away from her and looked at him. He watched her with a concerned look on his features and she turned to look out the window, watching fog swirl around the streets. “Malfoy what’s going on here…why are we sitting having tea? How do you know how I take my tea? Why aren’t there any other people around?” Her eyes settled on his and he chuckled, a wonderful deep sound that sent a tingle down her spine that settled somewhere in the base of it.
“You were always one to ask a million questions Granger, I’m glad that hasn’t changed, and I would love to answer them but you should really drink your tea first, you know it makes you feel better.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion and she grabbed the cup and lifted it to her nose sniffing it, before taking a small sip of the hot liquid. She rolled the sip around her mouth a bit then swallowed. When she didn’t immediately fall over in convulsions and die she took another sip and realized just how thirsty she was, it felt like she’d been eating sand. After gulping down the first cup Draco poured a second one fixing it just the same and sliding it over to her. This time she took a few sips then set the cup down and stared at him expectantly, “well?”
Draco seemed distracted, if not a bit dazed, his eyes were a bit glassy as he reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a silver pocket watch with an ornate and obviously antique cover. He opened it to check the time then put it back in his pocket and slid out of the booth, “perhaps I can answer your questions the next time we meet Granger, I do have a life.” With a smirk and a conspiratory wink he grabbed the jacket she hadn’t seen laying over the back of the booth and strode out of the café. She let out a growl and got up to chase after him but when she reached the open door all she saw was the thick fog covering the streets.
Draco bolted upright in his bed and panted, a thin sheen of sweat covering his pale form. He looked out the windows to the terrace outside and saw that it was late, the moon nowhere to be seen and the sky full of stars. He combed his fingers through his hair pushing it back, noting that it too was drenched in sweat. When his heart stopped threatening to beat out of his chest he swung his legs over the side of the large bed and slid out of the silver silk sheets that had become too warm and padded over to his closet and threw open the double doors. Barefoot and dressed only in black pajama pants he walked to the back of the massive closet and pushed aside the old jumpers and jackets intended for the colder winter months and took out a slim cherry wood box. With the box in hand he left the closet and opened the terrace doors and stepped into the cool night air. He closed his eyes for a second and reveled in the feel of the cool wind on his damp skin then stepped forward and set the box gently on the wide concrete ledge of the railing. His fingers ghosted over the surface, seeming to caress it like a lover, and his lips appeared to tremble but actually murmured a spell. The box made a soft click as it opened and he lifted the lid. He took out a stack of parchment and a silver picture frame. He set the frame up on the ledge in front of the wicker chair he kept outside and settled himself to read the letters, all while grinning 17 year old versions of himself and Hermione chased each other in the picture on the ledge.
A/N: It's been a long time since I have posted here. I had posted this story a while back, but I think it got lost somehow. At any rate, I'd appreciate any reviews or comments you have :)
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