Before All Else

IV

One.

Two.

Three.

Draco counts the long silent seconds.

Four.

Five.

He could hear her moving around in the room, just behind a thin door. Ron still watching from the top of the stairs, his nose no longer broken. His face still set in a scowl.

Finally the door opens, and Draco is over come by the scent of the air when it stirred around her. The same scent he'd always recognized as her. He inhales deeply, relishing in the familiarity of the odor. His insides rejoicing and he smiles home he thinks. Hermione smells like home.

"Drake?" Hermione squeaks, breaking the silence between them.

Draco opens his eyes, unaware he's even closed them. "Mione" He breathes, smiling down at her, his eyes taking in her all too familiar features.

Bushy brown curls, peppered freckles across her perfectly straight nose. Bright brown eyes, cheeks as pink as a rose bud and her lips. Oh how he loves her lips, perfectly curved and the color of cherry blossom trees. She is just as beautiful to him today as she was when he first met her on the train in their first year.

His heart leaping from his chest. He could feel it, the love he had for her. Still there, still giving him a purpose. It consumes his body and for the first time since she left, Draco feels content, safe and liberated. His soul smiles, welcome home.

Without thinking Draco reaches out to stroke a stray hair from her face, Ron clears his throat obnoxiously stopping Draco's small gesture.

Draco has dropped his hand and glared at Ron before he had finished his pitiful attempt to ruin his reunion with Hermione. Hoping Ron got the hint his presence wasn't required. It worked, Ron left without a glace at either of them.

Once he was out of sight Draco turned back to a dazed Hermione and gestured to the room behind her, she nods and moves aside to let him in.

The bedroom was small, an old wrought iron double bed taking up most of it. An old floral upholstered sofa sat in one corner, beside an excessively full bookshelf. On the other side next to an open window a mannequin clad in a simple white lace gown.

He swallows a lump, knowing it's her wedding gown. Hermione, noticing his sudden hesitation follows his gaze to the dress. She rushes over and drapes it in an old sheet speaking a soft "Sorry."

Draco draws his eyes away to look at Hermione, she was standing awkwardly beside the bed, eyeing him curiously, chewing on her lip, a nervous habit she had developed over the years since the war.

"I've missed you." Draco speaks breaking the silence, "You look good. Same as always." He smiles fondly.

Still she doesn't answer.

"How have you been?" He asks again in a desperate attempt to wade past the awkward, uncomfortable silence that was quickly filling the room. His fantasies about her falling into his arms slipping away even faster.

With a sigh he moves to stand in front of Hermione and her breathing freezes at their close proximity. Leaning down Draco smiles and brushes his fingertips feather-light along her soft cheek, savoring the way her skin burns under his touch, this is how we should be, he thinks to himself. his eyes watching the way Hermione leans into the touch.

"Draco... don't" Her sentence is broken, her voice breathy and sad.

He moves his hand from her face, stung by her rejection.

"Don't what? Don't miss you? Don't think about you, think about us?" His voice grew loud, he was angry and hurt. She hasn't rejected him in so long and now he is stood in front of her, ready to beg her to return home with him and she rejects him.

Hermione nods weakly at his words but Draco carries on, not realizing they've gravitated back towards each other. "Should I not want to kiss you or touch you? Should I not remember the noises you'd make when I was buried deep inside you?" He asks, softer this time. His words washing over Hermione's pink lips, his hand buried in her curls.

Hermione's cheeks burn at his words, "Yes, don't. You can't. I'm with Ron now." She answers, faux confidence in her words.

This time Draco moves away, opting to sit on the small sofa, "Can't. Won't. I'm not going to push it but I'm not going to pretend." He talks smoothly, unbuttoning his coat.

Hermione stares at Draco, processing his words. "Why are you doing this?" She groans, falling to sit on the bed.

Looking her over Draco licks his lips, "Because you can't look me in the eye and tell me you don't miss me. Miss us."

"I love Ron!" Hermione yells, throwing her hands in the air, exasperated.

Draco smirks, tapping his finger to his lips. His leg crossed casually over the other, as he watches the normally collected witch in front of him fall to pieces.

"Do you?" Draco asks, pursing his lips and sitting forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

Hermione looks at him, thinking his words over, her brows furrowing.

"Yes... No... I don't know." She resolves, rubbing her arms in a nervous fidget.

"You don't know? It's not a hard decision Mione." He quipped, using the same line she'd said to him a year prior.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at his words. "I'm very fond of him." She sighs, her shoulders slumping and the bed springs creak under her weight. "He loves me." She concludes in defeat, playing with a loose thread on her sweater.

"You deserve more." Draco whispers, his voice strained.

Hermione merely shrugs.

"Do you love me?" Draco asks moving to kneel at her feet on the hard wooden floor, his voice showing his stress.

With a sigh Hermione drops her gaze to her lap, where their fingers played with the others. "Yes." She answers "That's the problem."

She loves him. That is what he came here to hear her say. So why did he feel like he'd just been stabbed in the heart?

Her words left him hurting, loving him was a problem? He moves to stand up, eyes focused on the floor as he walks away but Hermione stops him, her small hand holding his bicep.

"You're not leaving are you?" She questions, her eyes wide with terror.

Draco thinks for a moment, looking out the window and across the field towards the shed. "Not without you love." He answered simply and he knew it was true as soon as the words had passed his lips. He probably knew before then, but seeing the fear in her eyes at the possibility of him leaving solidified that he was not leaving. Not unless she was coming with him.

"I'm marrying Ron. I can't leave." She argues, her eyes sinking with sadness.

Draco brought his gaze to watch her, "Don't be so against the chance. A lot has changed, meet me on Thursday, I'll show you everything has changed." He pressed, looking deep into her eyes.

"I can see you've changed. You're a lot less put together. Can't you just tell me now?"

Draco shakes his head, "You'll understand soon enough. I promise Mione. Give me a chance to prove this to you." He smiles pleadingly, leaning down to catch her lips in his own. He smiles, she still tastes like his favorite lychee lip gloss.

Their kiss is chaste, innocent but it ignites a fire deep in Draco's stomach causing his toes to curl in his shoes. It was the ideal perfect moment. Neither of them battle for dominance, instead both surrendering to the kiss before pulling away.

Draco smiles, placing another chaste kiss to the corner of her lips, "I'm not giving up." He whispers before turning and leaving the room a million emotions coming to the surface, but none hitting him quite as hard as the fist of Ron, whom was listening through the door.