Isolation

13. Alone

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Hermione could never recall feeling so warm and content.

She released a lazy hum as the rhythmic falls of a masculine chest lulled her back to that wonderful purgatory between sleep and reality. A tasty smell of peppermint and sinful Slytherin tickled her nose, and she blinked away the remains of a blissful dream as she remembered where she was.

Judging by the heavy breaths toying with her hair, Draco was very much ignorant to the world, but his arms must have snaked round her during the night, and she couldn't help but push her body a little more into his. He felt so good wrapped around her like this, and she wanted to absorb as much as she could before the inevitable denial and arguments came. Frowning with that thought, she realised it was probably best she leave before he stirred, if only to save them both the embarrassment and hassle.

Unsure why, but unable to resist, she craned her neck to plant a lingering kiss against his jaw line, before carefully removing herself from his hold.

The absence of his touch left her feeling neglected and cold, and as an afterthought, she pulled on of Draco's blankets over him. With a final sad look, she turned to leave, oblivious to the set of grey eyes slowly opening behind her.

Draco brought his fingertips to where her lips had been, and stared at her back as she left him alone. A random idea stole his brain, and silently eased himself up, just managing to catch the door before it closed behind her. He poked his head through the gap and strained his hearing ability to successfully catch her password.

Lutra, lutra?

He had no idea what it meant, nor did he care; he just felt satisfied that things could be a little fairer now. If she was so bloody eager to wander into his room whenever she liked, now he could do the same. He told himself it was purely for tactical purposes, but as he raised his fingers again to his Granger-grazed jaw, he couldn't help but wonder if there were darker motives to his prying actions.

.

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After a light lunch and a trip to the library, Hermione had returned to her room to find Hedwig pecking at her window.

Hermione read the letter again, and her smile widened. The envelope had been addressed solely to her, so she hadn't tracked down Ginny this time. After weeks of nothing but disappointment and fuel to her ever-growing pessimism; finally there was a light in the darkness. The note was scrawled in Ron's familiar and clumsy handwriting, but the words were bold and clear across the parchment.

We found it. It's destroyed.

Searching for the others.

I miss you.

R&H

There was no question about what 'it' was. They had found the locket. Her curiosity about the details would have to wait; she knew it was far too risky for Harry and Ron to provide her with too much information. But for the moment, she didn't care, they were one step closer to defeating Voldemort and ending this War.

I miss you.

Her broad grin creased into a sad frown as a spell of guilt hit her hard. Visions of her recent... activities with Draco waltzed across her conscious, and she realised, with a cringe, that she hadn't once considered how her behaviour would affect her friendship with the boys, specifically Ron. The details of her relationship with him were complicated to say the least, and she guessed she should blame them both for never having a civilised conversation about the subject.

While she didn't regret losing her virginity to her best friend, it had been made perfectly clear to her that that was all she and Ron ever would be. Friends. There had never been any passion between them; just crushes and curiosity that had now been, for her, sated. She loved him dearly, but she wanted that lust that she'd heard so much about; that burning throb inside your soul that made you crave someone's touch.