Until the end Draco x Hermione

Chapter 23 Determination

Gone? No. It was impossible! Draco had waited so long for this moment; he'd even dreamed of it! Then to learn that Hermione no longer lived there caught him off guard. He didn't know where to go now; she could be anywhere and he had no idea where he could start looking for her. All his hopes seemed to be dashed before his eyes. He'd believed in it so much. For so long. He still believed in it, but it was much more complicated now. This house was his last hope and now it was occupied by this Asfeld.

His goal seemed to be slipping further and further away, as if someone were trying to make him understand that finding Hermione was the last thing on his mind. But that was unthinkable. He hadn't waited all this time to give up so quickly, so even if she could be anywhere on Earth, he would look for her, body and soul. He had to...

Night was falling on Paris. On Montmorency Street, the guests had finally left the house, leaving only Hermione and Pierre, each more uncomfortable than the other. The dinner was silent, and a strange atmosphere was surrounding them. Only the radio broke the silence.

What Hermione dreaded most now was the moment when she would have to go to bed, because then she would have to do so alongside someone for whom she had no feelings.

Wrapped in a set of silk trouser-shirt pajamas, Hermione gazed out of the large window of her bedroom at the alleyway as it slipped into darkness. Only a few small lights illuminated it. Pierre burst into the room a few minutes later, freshly showered, dressed in a black T-shirt with something that must have been a rock band on it, and jogging pants.

- How are you?" Pierre asked Hermione, totally lost in thought.

She had not noticed that he was standing next to her.

- Yes! Don't worry...

But she said it more for herself than for him. She turned to look at the well-made bed, no longer waiting for someone to lie on it. But the tall dark-haired man had read the apprehension on her face.

- You know, we don't have to do anything. We can just lie there and let Morpheus take us away.

Hermione laughed in spite of herself. Why was he using phrases like that? She'd spent quite a bit of time with him after Voldemort's defeat, as her parents had so kindly requested, and she'd come to realize that every phrase he used seemed to be carefully thought out before being uttered.

She had tried to feel something for him, to forget Draco and surrender herself to those terribly seductive light-brown eyes. She had tried, and so far, she still had not been able to. Normally, they were officially dating and engaged, so had already kissed. Once or twice. She'd felt her heartbeat quicken at the time, but it disappeared immediately. It was just a simple effect of the kiss. Nothing more than that. No deep sentimental cause. Nothing more than a normal reaction of the human body. But also that slight feeling of betrayal. The feeling of having betrayed Draco by kissing someone else. But no matter how much she told herself he'd done worse, she couldn't help feeling bad.

She knew Pierre, and she knew he felt something for her. He had told her. She had told him she wasn't sure of her feelings yet, and he had said he would wait. And tonight he would wait. And no doubt many other nights. But therein lay the problem: could he wait indefinitely? At some point, she would have to open her heart to him and remove this Malfoy from her mind entirely. That day was not yet today, but it would come. She knew it would. And she feared it.

Finally, the two made their way to the bed and settled in. Pierre slowly brought his face to the young woman's and pressed his lips gently to hers before murmuring a " good night " that would send shivers down the spine of any Frenchwoman in the vicinity. The former red and gold didn't shiver. She smiled and turned back to the window, doing her best to fall asleep.