Deny

Hermione laughed at Draco when he went to take his second shower of the day, but she realized as soon as he was gone that she missed him already. She scoffed silently at her strange new feelings of attachment; she knew that if she showed him how much she already cared about him, he would push her away.

She slid a tape into the VCR and an old black and white movie appeared on the screen. She draped a blanket across her legs and stretched out on the couch to watch it. Several minutes later, she was dozing off. She wasn't used to so much physical activity in one day, let alone in one morning.

Draco lowered himself onto the end of the couch and tried not to wake her. Her eyes opened slightly, and she gave him a sleepy smile as she moved her feet out of the way so he could sit more comfortably.

"Feel better?" she murmured.

"Much. You hungry at all?"

"Is that all you think about?" she asked, giggling. He arched an eyebrow at her and gave her a wicked look.

"It's not all I think about," he murmured. She giggled again, and he grinned at the way her cheeks flushed scarlet.

"We probably need to get back to work," she said, starting to sit up. He put out a hand and stopped her from rising.

"You're exhausted," he said, with no small amount of satisfaction. She snorted. "Seriously, you need to rest."

"Right," she said thankfully, reclining back into her former position. Her eyes drifted closed again, and he picked up the remote control. She thrashed about on the cushions, trying to get comfortable. Finally he stopped her with a gentle hand on her ankle.

"Can't get comfy?"

"No," she said apologetically. "Maybe I should go to my room, so I don't bother you."

"Why don't you just rearrange yourself?" he suggested. "Try turning around and putting your head down here." He patted his lap, and she gave him a hesitant look.

"Are - are you sure it would be all right? I won't be encroaching on your space or anything, will I?"

"I wouldn't have offered if it wasn't all right," he reprimanded her. She didn't give him a chance to change his mind, and she turned and laid her head gently in his lap. She watched as he flipped through the channels at high speed. When her eyelids finally started to feel heavy again, she was startled to feel his fingers combing gently through her hair. She forced herself to keep her eyes closed - she didn't want him to stop just because she was awake.

She found that the motion of his fingers playing with her hair was extremely soothing, and it relaxed her to the point of sleep.

For his part, Draco had always wanted to touch her hair; had always been intensely curious as to what it felt like. He wouldn't have felt comfortable asking her outright if he could feel it - it would feel like too much of an admission as to how much interest he had in her, and he'd never wanted her to know that.

Her hair wasn't as wiry as he'd imagined it would be. It wasn't as silky soft as his own hair, but it was rather pleasant to touch. He sifted strands of chestnut hair through his fingers as he skimmed through the channels, searching for something decent to watch.

When Hermione snuggled closer to him, his heart leapt into his throat. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, he was growing attached to her. All through his shower, he'd thought about her and the things they'd done last night. Either she'd been feisty in bed just because it had been four years, or she was just naturally that energetic. Either way, it was a night he knew that he'd never forget.

And she'd looked so sweet and vulnerable falling asleep there on the couch like that - it had been too tempting to sit there with her and not touch her. She was exhausted, and rightly so. After all of their physical activity, and then the emotional and mental exertion they'd both undergone during his 'lesson,' he believed that she'd earned a little rest.

The wandless magic had been incredible for him to experience. He'd been able to smell her power when he'd gotten her agitated to the point where she'd turned the lights off. He had to smirk at the thought that his power surpassed hers; when she'd agitated him, he'd magicked away their clothes and transported them to her bedroom.

His eyes widened. He'd managed to transport the both of them from one room to another! Would he be able to do it again? His face cracked into a grin - he'd be able to take them both back to the bedroom, no question about that. It was other places he wondered about now. Would it exert him or drain all of his energy? Moving them both into the bedroom had made him feel a little weak, but he'd still had enough energy for her.

He glanced down at her sleeping form and brushed some stray hairs away from her face. She was amazing, this woman. He'd known beforehand that she had a big heart and helped people, but he'd never imagined that she would be so good to him. She'd told him that Ginny was a one-of-a-kind woman, but he knew she was wrong. Hermione was just like her - forgiving, and willing to give him another chance - albeit he argued with her much more than he had with Ginny.

Something about Hermione just made him want to fight.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"Ouch," she muttered, her eyes still closed. She twisted her head to one side, then the other, trying to get the pain to stop. When she opened her eyes, she remembered how she'd fallen asleep. She was still lying on the couch, with her head in Draco's lap. She turned around and looked up at him, and a soft smile appeared on her face. He was asleep with his head resting against the back of the couch, and the remote still in his hand.

She sat up slowly, not wanting to wake him, and took the remote from him. She placed it on the coffee table, then turned and draped part of the blanket over him. She brushed his hair away from his face, taking time to enjoy the peaceful expression he wore in sleep. Without thinking about it, she leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, then cuddled up next to his side and went back to sleep.

When Draco awoke, he found that Hermione had moved sometime during the night. Instead of lying with her head in his lap, now she was sitting up with her head on his shoulder. Instantly his arm went around her, giving her a gentle squeeze. He'd never just slept next to a woman before - at least, not without having sex first, anyway. Last night had been a revelation.

He listened to her soft, steady breathing, and wondered at the events that had transpired between them. So much had changed in the last two days that he wondered if perhaps he might be imagining it all. When she sighed and snuggled closer to him, the realization that it was all real hit him hard.

He had only come here seeking temporary refuge from the Death Eaters while Dumbledore worked to clear his name, but things had changed. When he'd arrived at her home, he'd nearly been a broken man. Everything had been stolen from him - his fortune, his magic, and the woman he loved. How was it that this fragile woman had been able to put all of the pieces back together so well? She'd given him back his magic, and she'd given him new hope.

She shifted again, and he heard her breathing change. She was waking up. She yawned and stretched languidly before peering up at him through barely opened eyes. For the second time in two days, she bestowed upon him a breathtaking sleepy smile.

"Hey," she whispered.

"Hey," he whispered back.

"I'm sorry I didn't wake you up," she said. He shrugged.

"I didn't mind sleeping out here."

"I know, but sleeping in a bed is so much better," she laughed. "No neck pain, no back pain, and soft pillows." He frowned at her.

"Are you saying that my lap isn't soft?"

She laughed again. "No, your lap was soft. But your shoulder is a bit bony."

"Why didn't you go to bed when you woke up?"

"I didn't want to just leave you out here by yourself," she said sweetly. "I would have felt bad doing that."

"Didn't want to leave me by myself, or didn't want to leave me, period?" He arched an eyebrow at her as she blushed. She moved away from him a bit, leaving him feeling cold on the side she'd been cuddled up to.

"Does it matter?" she asked, averting her eyes. He slid a finger under her chin and gently forced her to look at him.

"It does to me." Her stomach did nervous somersaults as his mercurial eyes penetrated hers.

"I didn't want to leave you," she admitted breathlessly. He inched forward slowly and caught her lips with his. Instinctively her arms went up around his neck, and her fingers tangled in the back of his hair. She was pleasantly surprised when she felt his hand touch her cheek gently and draw her closer to him. He kissed her over and over, rendering her breathless. When he finally pulled away, her cheeks were rosy and her eyes were sparkling.

"I'm glad you didn't leave. Although going to bed would have been nice." She tried not to look hurt at his words, even though they implied that he would rather have been tucked away in his bed without her nearby. Her heart sank.

"I'm sorry," she breathed, looking down at her hands, which had dropped to her lap.

"I didn't mean alone," he said, as if reading her thoughts. She slowly brought her eyes back up to meet his.

"Oh," she whispered, her heart fluttering madly again. She opened her mouth to say more, but before she could, there was a knock at her door. Draco immediately jumped up, and her eyes widened. "Who could that be? No one ever visits me!"

"Don't answer it," he whispered, helping her to her feet. She gave him a strange look.

"Do you think if it was really someone practicing dark magic that they'd knock?"

"Good point," he said, relaxing by degrees. "Don't you have some way of telling who it is before you open the door?"

"Just the eyehole," she said, shaking her head. He watched with growing unease as she moved quietly towards the door and looked through the hole. When she took a step back, he started towards her. She turned and gave him a wide-eyed look.

"Who is it?"

"Molly Weasley." His heart fell into his stomach, and he paled.

"What?"

"Hermione?" Molly called through the front door. "Dear, are you in there?"

"Do you want to hide?" Hermione whispered. Draco nodded, and moved into the other room just as Hermione unfastened the locks and opened the door. Molly greeted her daughter-in-law with a tight hug, then watched as Hermione bolted the door again.

"How have you been, dear?"

"Fine," Hermione said honestly. "I've been doing a lot better, actually." Molly examined her face closely.

"You do look better," she said, nodding with satisfaction. "You look as though you've started to eat, too. Good on you, Hermione. You're far too bony. You don't look at all like the girl I remember."

Hermione sat down in her favorite armchair and tucked her legs beneath her. Undoubtedly Draco was just in the hallway, listening to every word they spoke. The thought made her smile. Molly tilted her head and gave her a curious look.

"Are you quite all right, dear?"

"Oh, yes, I'm fine," Hermione said, nodding. "Can I get you something? Coffee, tea, something to eat?"

"No, I'm fine. I was up early this morning, preparing breakfast for Arthur and the boys." Hermione nodded, knowing that by 'the boys,' Molly meant the twins and Charlie. Bill had died right before Harry had, and though Percy was living, he had cut ties with his family long ago.

"How is everyone?"

"They're good. Always ready for action of any sort," Molly said, smiling sadly. "But everyone misses you. Charlie in particular would like to know when you're coming back."

"Does he?" Hermione asked politely. Charlie had made it no secret after Ron's death that he was interested in Hermione - in more than a friendly way. She had also made it clear, as politely as she could have and to anyone who would listen, that she was not interested in him in return.

"You know, Hermione, not a day goes by when we don't think about you. I know that you loved Ron, and your wedding day was one of the happiest days of my life, but it's been four years since Ron's death, and we'd love for you to be a part of the family again." Without warning, a candle on the coffee table lit up. Hermione's eyes widened; only Draco could have done that. Was he jealous?

"Sorry about that," Hermione said quickly. "That's been happening a lot lately."

"Is there something you need me to take care of?" Molly asked, pulling her wand out of her pocket. Hermione shook her head vehemently.

"No! No magic," she said. Molly stared at her with surprise etched across her face. "It's just - ever since Ron died, I've given up magic, and I don't want anything else to do with it, is all."

"I see," Molly said slowly, putting her wand away. "Are you sure everything's all right?"

"Everything is wonderful," Hermione said. "I feel better than I have in months. Years, even."

"Are you seeing someone?"

Hermione's mouth dropped open in surprise, and Molly waited patiently for her answer. "What?"

"Are you seeing someone? The last time I saw you this happy was right before Ron died. It's all right if you are, Hermione. We'd like to see you happy."

"Uhm," Hermione said, clearing her throat. "I'm not seeing anyone." The blanket that she had shared with Draco the night before flew off of the couch, landing in a heap on the floor. The flame on the candle shot high into the air, and Hermione jumped to her feet and blew it out. "Molly, I hate to sound so ungrateful, but is there any way I could persuade you to come back some other time?"

"Of course, dear," Molly said, rising from her chair. "If you need me, you know where to find me." Hermione unfastened the bolt and gave Molly one more hug before the older woman left. Almost immediately, Draco emerged from the hallway, his eyes so cold that it made Hermione shiver.

"Charlie Weasley is interested in you, and you didn't see fit to mention it to me?"

"Why should I tell you that?" she asked, surprised at the anger in his voice. "I thought it was ancient history. It's been over three years since I found out. And besides, he knew I was never interested in him. I've never seen him as anything more than a brother."

"So he sends his mother here to plead his case?" he asked, clenching his jaw. "Why couldn't he be a man and come out here himself?"

"He's probably too busy doing work for the Order," she said, frowning. "And besides, he probably didn't even know that Molly was coming out here, for whatever reason."

"Coward," he spat.

"What's with you?" she asked incredulously. "You knew she was out here, and yet you pulled those stunts in there? She knew something was going on - she's not stupid!"

"You told her you weren't seeing anyone," he shot back, his eyes narrowing.

"What do you care? I'm not seeing you! Just because we slept together doesn't mean that we're seeing each other! What would you have done if I had told her?"

"I don't know," he said, turning away from her.

"Exactly," she said, tears stinging her eyes. "You would have lied, too, and you know it! You wouldn't have told her about me if you had the chance! You wouldn't have wanted to sully Ginny's memory and made her think any less of you, and you sure as hell wouldn't have wanted her to think you'd stooped so low as to sleep with me!" He turned around and glared at her.

"That's not true! Is that why you didn't tell her about me? Because you thought she'd think less of you, sleeping with me after being married to her precious son?" Somewhere in the background, Hermione was vaguely aware of the sound of glass shattering.

"I didn't tell her because I didn't want her to know that you were here!" she shouted, tears streaming down her face. "But you're such an ass, you can't see that! I don't understand why you're so jealous!"

"Oh no, kitten," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Jealousy would imply that I cared about you. Let's not get the wrong impression, now. We both know what this was - convenience." She stared openly at him, her pain and frustration obvious on her face. The tears flowed freely, and she made no attempt to hide them from him.

"I see." Her voice cracked and she turned away from him. She picked up the blanket they'd shared and folded it gently over her arm before taking it into her bedroom. She exited the bedroom and went into the kitchen, oblivious to his watchful gaze as she did so. He moved to the doorway of the kitchen and watched as she carefully swept up the broken glass that was spread across the tiled floor.

She emptied the dust pan into the waste can and replaced the broom before pouring herself a glass of milk and heading into the living room. She sat down on the couch and picked up the remote, determined not to let him see just how much he'd hurt her.

He watched her carefully, waiting for her to explode. He waited for anything - yelling, screaming, throwing things - but nothing happened. She just sat down on the sofa and tucked her feet beneath her, as was her habit to do, and began flipping through the channels.

He stood there until he couldn't take it anymore. He moved in front of her, and still she didn't blink. He knew he was blocking her view of the television, but she still continued to flip through the stations as though she could see the screen. It made him furious.

"Look at me," he demanded. She ignored him. "You can't just ignore me and pretend that I'm not here!"

When his words didn't garner a response, he leaned down and crushed his lips against hers. He knew that he was hurting her, but he didn't care. He was ashamed of his earlier behavior; ashamed of his jealousy and even more ashamed that it had forced him to admit to himself the depth of his feeling for her.

She didn't push him away, but she didn't respond, either. He didn't know which was worse. He wished she would rage at him; he knew how to deal with an angry Hermione. When he began to taste blood, he pulled away and stared down at her. She appeared to be staring straight through him. He wouldn't have thought that she felt anything at all, had he not seen the single tear that made its way down her face.

She stood and gently pushed past him, muttering on her way out of the room, "I need some rest." He waited until she was out of the room before he sank down on the couch, dropping his face into his hands.