Signum Vitalis (a dramione story)

In which old things are brought up again

Draco dropped Hermione off at the floo point and then left to walk back to his own apartment. Once he was out the door, she realized she was still wearing his scarf. She hurried out of the shop, looking down both ways of the snow-swept pavement. He wasn't there. She sighed, her breath coming out in a fog against the cold air. She would have to return it tomorrow at school. Tucking the scarf tighter around her neck, she inhaled deeply, storing away his warm scent.

There was a very British curse from around the side of the building, surprising her. Hermione peeked her head around the corner and watched as Draco slammed his fist into the wall. It came away bloody and he cradled it against himself for a moment before he flinched and cocked his fist back for another punch.

"Draco!"

He paused at her voice, the pain-filled anger freezing on his face for several seconds before he could shake it off and replace it with a dead-eyed mask. That wasn't much better in Hermione's opinion.

"Draco, what happened?"

He let his hand fall to his side but his fingers were still working open and shut.

Hadn't they just talked all of this out? Why was he so upset? She reached out towards him and he froze, neither stepping away from her or leaning towards her. "Draco?" When he didn't react she continued to step forward until she could ghost her hand above his cheek. His eyes slid closed, one eyelid shifting shut just a little faster than the other.

Her bare hand finally made contact with his skin. Her fingers were starting to hurt from the cold but it was nothing to the ice of his face. The second she made contact he flinched away but she wasn't sure whether it was due to the cold or something else.

She moved her finger under his chin and tilted his face towards hers. "Please. Tell me whats wrong."

He finally opened his eyes again, his mouth was pulled in a thin line. "I'm a bloody hypocrite and a coward, that's what." His eyes slid away from her as he said it.

She reached out and cupped his wounded hand in hers, stroking his thumb where there wasn't any blood. She shushed him. "That's in the past."

Shaking his head a little, his fingers tightened. "No, Hermione. I've been spouting the wisdom of Sikhism and sobriety and the second things are hard for me I turn around and go straight back to everything I had denounced."

She shook her head. "That's a hyperbole and you know it."

He smirked a sad ghost of his smile but didn't say anything.

"Draco, I'm not going to leave you the second you show you aren't perfect. I know that already. You can't change your past anymore so all I care about is what you want right now. If it is to keep climbing out of this, then I'm here with you. Just like you've been helping me climb out of my own hole."

He sighed but still didn't look at her.

"Don't you get it?" Her fingers squeezed his hard as she tried to find a way to make him understand. To feel what she was feeling. "I care about you. A lot. I'm not looking for an excuse to leave you. I'm looking for an excuse to stay." What a strange sensation that was. It was so very close to what had happened with Ron that it scared her a little. She had always been trying to convince herself to stay with him. But with Ron, it had always been because she had felt pressured from the outside. Here she cared about him and the main barrier was her expectation for perfection. From him and from herself. She knew that. Knew that he felt that expectation from her. It wasn't something she could help. But she was willing to ignore that part of her. Fight it. Because maybe there were some things that were better than perfect.