The Silver Envelope

Moons

Draco certainly needed air. The thick, alcohol-scented miasma of the pub was starting to make him feel both nauseated and in need of a drink.
The cool night breeze hit him like a tonic. He took a deep breath, attempting to calm his mind.
He couldn't wait to tell Healer Connelly. She would be so proud to hear that he had finally apologized to Hermione-and in person, no less. He might even write to her tonight instead of waiting for their next session.
Next to him, Hermione stood and peered up at the dark sky, appreciating the fresh air as well. She swayed ever so slightly, and he nearly reached out to brace her, only stopping himself by stuffing his fists inside his coat.
"You never answered my question," Hermione said suddenly.
Draco looked at her, wondering what she meant.
"About why you're here. In a random muggle pub," Hermione clarified.
The orange streetlamps made her glow with a strange luminance, her flushed cheeks looking particularly rosy. Her eyelids had drooped a bit, as if she was fighting to keep her eyes open. Draco forced himself not to smile at the serenely drunk expression. They might not be outright enemies anymore, but she probably wouldn't appreciate him goggling at her.
He cleared his throat.
"Er, I come here often. Well, I used to. Not so much, er, now," he stammered.
How to explain without telling her everything? He decided to change the subject instead.
"To answer your other question, about what I'm doing these days, I've been consulting for the Department of Mysteries," he said.
Her eyes brightened. "So that's why I've seen you at the Ministry! Is it top secret, then?"
It felt funny, knowing she'd noticed him there too. Draco shoved down the odd thumping feeling in his chest at the thought.
"Yes, in fact, it is top secret." He put on his most dark and mysterious voice and leaned in. "Can I trust you?" he asked.
Hermione seemed to freeze in place, staring into his eyes while she considered the question. He realized he must have startled her, moving in so close. He had forgotten they weren't friends.
But she didn't move away. Instead, she looked thoughtful before responding, "No. You can't.
Apparently, all you have to do to get me to spill my guts is buy me a few drinks."
Draco grinned, relishing her shock at his genuine mirth. Never before had they enjoyed such a friendly conversation. Draco felt bubbly, drinking in her smile like a glass of champagne.
"And apparently all I need to spill my guts is a glass of plain water. The department should probably fire me. Clearly, I can't keep a secret to save my life," he joked.
That made her laugh, and the champagne bubbled in his chest.
They had begun walking, ambling in no particular direction. Muggles milled about, enjoying the London nightlife, unaware that a miracle was occurring in their midst.
"Alright," Hermione said with a sigh. "I'll tell you why I was there if you tell me why you were there. I think that's fair."
Draco considered the bargain for a moment. He definitely did not want to disclose why he was there, but he also didn't want to lie. On the other hand, he very much wanted to know why she had been there, all alone.
"You go first," he said.
She scoffed.
"Slytherins," she complained as he laughed. "Alright...here goes. Ergh, I can't believe I'm telling
you this...
Draco held his breath, suddenly waiting on tenterhooks.
"Ron. and I, well, we...erm.. sort of had a fight," she stammered.
The bubbles did not pop.
"Mm. Of course," Draco said, earning a smack on his shoulder from her.
"What do you mean, of course!" she snapped, but he could see she wasn't truly offended. He smirked.
"I just mean that if I had to live with that git, I'd go mad too. Ow!" he complained as he earned another smack. He rubbed his shoulder.
"Don't call him that! He's not a git! Well...okay maybe sometimes," she cringed. Draco found himself laughing harder than he had in a long time. Hermione groaned, fighting a smile. "If Ron knew I said anything to you, he'd be furious! I really shouldn't have said anything."
"I won't tell him. Or that Johanna Wolfy or whatever."
"Ergh, Rita Skeeter junior, that one," she groused. "No, I believe you. It's just, you know...it's you." She glanced nervously at him.
He tried to look reassuring, but he wasn't sure he was capable of that.
"What was the fight about?" he asked.
Hermione pressed her lips together, turning her face away. She seemed to be deciding how much was too much to divulge. Draco thought about rescinding the question, reminding her that he wasn't owed the details of her love life. Instead, he kept silent, curiosity burning in his gut.
"I suppose. well, it's stupid, but I guess...he seems to think I've been seeing someone behind his back," she said, worry and regret clouding her voice.
"And? Are vou?" Draco asked. He was verv. verv interested in her answer. Too interested.
"No! Of course not!" Hermione scoffed. "I've just been coming home late a lot, is all. I've been so
busy with work, and I suppose he's feeling a bit, well, neglected."
Draco waited for her to continue, but she changed the subject instead.
"Alright! Your turn!" she said, a bit too brightly. "Tell me all your filthiest secrets, Malfoy!"
He raised a suggestive eyebrow at her.
"All of them? You sure you're ready for that, Granger?"
"'You know what I mean," she said, cheeks flushing anew as she glanced at him.
They found themselves on a quiet street now, with trees and hedgerows that served to make the place feel somewhat secluded. He stopped near a bench, gesturing to offer a seat to her first. Sitting beside her, he sighed, knowing he was about to tell her much more than he had originally planned.
But she had opened up to him, far more than he had ever expected of her. He felt compelled to return the favor. And possibly, he admitted in the deepest, darkest corner of his mind, he wanted her to know him.
"I drink, sometimes," he said quietly, not looking at her. "Too much, I mean. I take a tonic for it, but this week I missed it. Tonight, I was going to, well, slide back into old habits, I suppose."
He still didn't look at her. He could tell she'd gone very still, taking in every word. He continued.
"I prefer muggle pubs because I don't ever run into people who know me. After reading this morning's paper, it seemed like a particularly bad day to get recognized. But then, I saw you.
Finally, he looked at her.
Her eyes were as wide as moons. She was barely breathing, still as she was.
"And I wondered why you were all alone. And then I thought, maybe, you'd had just as shitty a day as I'd had. And that perhaps you'd like some company. So, I went in and ordered some water."
Had he said the wrong thing? She was just staring at him, completely still. Finally, her lips parted
tO answer.
"Oh," she said, breathless.
"Oh," he repeated wearily.
He waited, watching as her lashes lowered, eyes falling away from his.
Warm, gentle fingers covered his hand on the bench between them. Surprised, he looked down.
Hermione Granger's soft, unengaged hand was touching his. Comforting him.
Her touch was like nothing he had felt in his life. He had the impulse to rudely jerk his hand back, to turn on his heel and disappear into the night, to make sure he never saw her again so he could never feel this way again.
But he didn't. Instead, he let the burn of the gentle contact soak into his skin, relishing the wrongness of it.
Then it was over. Her hand was gone, and she stood, leaving him feeling both relieved and bereft.
"I should go. R-Ron will be waiting for me," she said, looking at the ground.
"Can you apparate safely?" he asked, standing along with her. He felt himself wishing that she would say no, that she needed his help, that she needed him to wrap his arms around her and-
"Yes, I'll be fine," she said, cutting off his wild and stupid thoughts. Maybe that hadn't been water in his glass after all, for he felt quite intoxicated.
She cleared her throat.
"Goodnight, then.. Draco," she said, primly offering her hand to shake goodbye.

He took her hand into his, giving her a single, businesslike shake. Time suspended on a fine thread as neither of them immediately let go.
"Goodnight... Hermione," he said quietly.
He continued to hold her hand while she reacted to the sound of her given name on his lips, their mutual parting gift of friendship. Those full moon eyes sparked with a sense of awe he recognized somewhere deep in his body. Then in one swift movement, he let her go and spun backward on his heel, disappearing into the night.