Insomnia

After the meal, Draco walked her home. The night had taken on a cool, crisp air, cold enough that when they breathed the streetlights illuminated the puff of steam from their mouths. Hermione folded her arms to keep her hands warm. Draco kept his in his pockets, which made him look, for some reason, very young. She smiled.

"This was fun, Draco."

He snorted, and turned to look at her incredulously. "So, your idea of fun is rehashing horrible, catastrophic events? I always knew Gryffindors were weird."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Not like that, silly. You know what I mean. I needed this."

Draco nodded. "Yeah, it's good to talk to someone."

"No, not just that. Everything. Seeing you again. Becoming friends with you. Breaking the boring cycle of my non-life." She didn't meet his eyes.

"I...I know. Everything's easier." Draco stopped, reached forward and gently tipped her face up to look at him. He gazed at her searchingly, then dropped his hand, looking away.

They stood there, under the streetlight, silent. Unchartered territory, this was, and neither one were happy with it.

Standing still, the temperature was no longer refreshingly crisp, but cold and biting. Hermone shivered, and Draco took her arm. "Come on. We'd better keep going, or we'll catch our death."

Sylvia was sitting on the doorstep, waiting for Hermione like a scorned lover. When they approached, she gave a put-out yowl and stalked off, her tail in the air. Hermione smiled. "She's not happy with me, now. It'll take a lot of cuddles before she forgives me."

Awkward, she thought. Awkward and stilted. And you both know it.

"Hermione?" Draco nervously ran one hand through his hair. "Could I see you again, soon?"

She nodded silently, biting her lip.

Ask him if he wants to come inside. Ask him.

Draco smiled. "Okay, maybe next week? I'll call you." He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek.

Hermione closed her eyes when she felt his cool, soft lips on her cheek, and drew a breath. "Draco, I..." She steeled her courage, and leant forward, brushing her lips against his.

For a moment, Draco sank into the kiss, and then pulled away.

"Hermione, I'm sorry - I can't do this."

He turned and walked away, leaving Hermione on the doorstep.

Nice going, Draco. Way to spoil the evening. Way to totally blow your chances with Hermione.

Shut up. She's still clearly not over Weasley. I can't be rebound man, I can't. I...care for her.

Yeah, whatever. If you really liked you, you'd have her upside down and halfway to happyland by now.

Draco walked back to his flat, and glared when he opened the door. All fake. He set about angrily removing the charms and tranfigurations on the flat, until it was back to its usual unkempt, eclectic look. He paused when he got to the couch, and an image of Hermione, sitting delicately, and smiling at him came to mind.

He sat down on the Chesterfield and sighed, remembering the way her lips felt on his.

Hermione let herself into her flat, walking like on dead. Trance-like, she took off the dress, released her hair from the complicated style, and got into bed.

Outside, it began to rain.