Never Wanted To

The feeling of the club washed over Hermione as she stepped inside the door. Shaking the snow

out of her hair, she hung her black fur cloak, and walked into the club proper. It was Christmas

Eve, the fifth anniversary of the end of the war, and the veterans of the last battle were

meeting for a night of fun.

***

Draco was dancing, lithe and snakelike, perfectly in time with the thumping beat of the music.

Taking a pull of his cigarette, he glanced around the club through the hair covering his eyes.

Surely she would be here soon, he'd been waiting for what seemed like forever, waiting for her to

walk through the door. Then he saw her, a slim form in red leather pants and a tight fitting white

poplin blouse, her red bra clearly showing through, striding confidently towards him in black

dragon skin boots, her chocolate and caramel hair, finally tamed, hanging down her back. He

smiled, and sighed with relief.

***

Entering the club, Hermione looked around for a familiar face. She was early, it was only ten, she

knew Harry, Ginny, Luna and the others wouldn't be arriving until midnight, but she was hoping to

see him before they were both surrounded by their old friends. She scanned the dance floor,

knowing how he loved the show off. A man in the middle caught her eye. Black dragon skin pants

and a fishnet shirt, not hiding the faded skull tattoo on his left arm, a wild shock of white blonde

hair covering his eyes. She smiled. He was here.

***

Their relationship had been stormy and passionate. The war was coming to a head, and he was

working undercover for the Light. He had been Marked on his 18th birthday, at his father's

insistence. Lucius had not known of his son's defection from the Dark until three weeks before

the last battle, and it had cost him dearly. It had cost him his life at his son's hands.

She had been working deep within the Order, her brilliant skills as a Healer saving many lives that

might otherwise have been lost because of Dark curses. He had been brought into headquarters

three weeks before the final battle, suffering massive injuries, both mental and physical after

the duel with his father. She had healed his body. It had taken her much longer to help him heal his

mind, to help him deal with the guilt that had pervaded his soul after he had killed his father.

The first time they had made love was the night before the final battle. Desperate in their

despair and their fear, they had turned to each other, had fucked on the kitchen table in the

basement of 12 Grimmauld Place, using each other to escape the harsh reality that they knew

the next morning would bring.

They had remained together for a year after the war, as friends and lovers. They helped each

other with the aching feeling of loss that had fallen on all of the survivors. He had lost his mother

and father, Narcissa sacrificed by Voldemort to remind Lucius of where his loyalties were to be

strongest. She had lost one of her closest friends, and her fiance. Ron had been killed in the early

days of the war, saving her life. Seamus had died not long after, from massive blood loss during

the siege of Hogwarts.

He had left England on the first anniversary of the war, a member of a secret squad of top

aurors commissioned to hunt down Death Eaters who had escaped to all corners of the globe. She

had moved to America not long after, to further her Healing skills at the New England Magical

University. This was the first time they had seen each other since then, the owls flying back and

forth between them having long reduced from a torrent to a mere trickle of communication.

***

They sat at the bar silently, but companionably, drinking Firewhisky and smoking cigarettes.

Hermione's head was on Draco's shoulder. She had missed the smell of him, she realised. The

spice of his cologne mingling with the cigarette smoke and the sharp scent of the Firewhisky. She

didn't know how she could have gone so long without smelling it.

Her hair was tickling his neck, and her breath was warm on his chest. Draco relished her

presence, was drunk with it. He had missed the closeness, the easy companionship she provided.

More than anything, he realised, he missed the understanding they had shared. He didn't know how

he could have gone on so long without it.

***

By mutual assent, they had returned to the dance floor, their rhythms perfectly matched, the

looks they shared intimate and passionate. They savoured the feel of their bodies so close

together, felt the fire reigniting. He danced closer to her, the contact stretching the length of

their bodies. She looked up, eyes pleading with him. He smiled, and acquiesed.

***

Harry and Ginny entered the club, hand in hand, both searching the room for familiar faces. Ginny

nodded towards the dance floor with a smile, and Harry looked over.

There was a couple on the dance floor, so close as to be one, kissing slowly and softly, yet

passionately, oblivious to the pounding music, the dancing people around them.

***

The kiss ended, as all kisses will. Hermione looked Draco in the eye and mouthed, "Never leave me

again."

He smiled, and whispered in her ear.

"I never wanted to in the first place."