The boy in the hammock

Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Depressing, but true.

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They were both drained for much of the day, and nighttime came quickly.

There was a moment of uncertainty between them as they approached the hammock, unsure of how to arrange themselves, but Draco took the lead, crawling into the belly of the fabric and then turning onto his back to face her. He proceeded, to Hermione's great delight, to open his arms and motioned for her to join him. She slid in, gently resting her head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

"This is so much better than sleeping back to back," she mumbled happily into his t-shirt.

"Tell me about it," he said, quietly.

They were still for a while, the sounds of their breathing and the incessant rain creating a soothing soundtrack against the walls of the cave. Draco's mind was far from calm, however, and he grudgingly realized that there was something he needed to voice before his heart betrayed him any further.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to imagine himself being away from Hermione, and yet, their futures were uncertain at best. They had a lot working against them no matter what direction their relationship took - friendship or otherwise. Most immediately, her two lackeys were about to become a definite thorn in his side. His parents would have been a problem if they were in the picture, but there was no point in dwelling on them when they had likely disowned him by now. No, Potter and Weasley would be intruding on his little haven soon, and Draco knew he had to ask Hermione about it before the three men were holding each other at wandpoint.

"Hermione?"

"Hm?"

"What happens now?"

There was a slight pause.

"In what sense?"

"I mean... We're waiting for Potter and Weasley to contact you, right? And then, presumably, either they come find us or we find them, right?"

"Ideally... Why?"

Draco cleared his throat awkwardly.

"How do you suppose they'll react to us being... Uh..."

In each other's arms?

"What I mean is... Being..."

"Being... Close?" she chanced. She wasn't surprised by his question... It was a conversation they needed to have, after all. This undefined affection between them was complicated, flirting with the grey area between friend and something more. She didn't blame him for being confused - Merlin knew she certainly was.

"Yes. Close," Draco continued. "I mean, they don't like me, and the feeling is mutual. They may not want me anywhere near you, fuck, who am I kidding, I know they wouldn't want me anywhere near you. That could get messy and it would probably be upsetting for you. So... I need to ask... " – he cringed at what he was about to say... why did he have to start caring about her feelings? – "Would it be easier for you if I were to leave the picture before any of that happens? I don't want to cause any problems between you three. Even a fool can see how important they are to you. And I guess... I guess I don't have a claim to you like they do, as much as I hate to admit it."

He felt her whole body tense.

"You would leave me?" she said, her voice suddenly shaky. Sure, she knew they didn't have a formal name for their relationship, but she couldn't imagine him being away from her. Had she misread him? Did he not want to give this... This thing a chance?