February 14th 2002
From beneath her low lashes, Hermione examined Draco's face; the sunken hollows of his cheeks and the blue-grey bags clinging to his eyes. He was pale, but not in that alluring china-doll way, and she couldn't tell if he'd lost weight or if his face looked so gaunt because he was clenching hard on his jaw , and probably had been for weeks. She'd read all the articles in the newspapers of course, and had expected some level of a physical change in his appearance, but he actually looked better than she'd expected, and that was somehow even more disturbing.
They hadn't spoken a word since she'd joined his side at Tonks' grave, which was hardly unusual given their past meetings here, but tonight the silence was claustrophobic, and Hermione was desperate to break it.
"It's warmer this year," she mumbled. "Don't you think?"
"You want to discuss the weather?" he asked, his tone almost scolding. "How British of you, Granger."
She pursed her lips. "I was just trying to-
"You needn't tip-toe around the topic," he said. "I find it fucking irritating when people do that."
"Okay then," she sighed, nervously shifting her weight. "I heard about your father, and I'm sorry-
"You have no reason to be," he cut her off. "You hated him, and that hatred was justified."
Frowning, she turned her body towards him. "Regardless of how I felt about your father, I did think of you when I heard the news, and I really am sorry for your loss."
He lifted his head and narrowed his eyes at her, searching her for any hint of insincerity. Apparently satisfied, he nodded his head, and his features softened a little. "I am fine, Granger. It was months ago, and it wasn't like it was unexpected. He'd been ill for a while."
"I know, but the press were...not very nice-
"It was expected," he muttered. "Speaking of news, I heard about you and Weasley."
Her eyes widened a fraction. "Yes...well-
"I'm not sorry."
"E-excuse me?" she stuttered.
"I'm not sorry that you and Weasley broke up," he said flippantly. "It was only a matter of time before commonsense caught up with you. Weasley needs a mother, not a lover, and you are far too independent and ambitious to play that role."
Hermione's mouth hung open as she tried to gather her thoughts. "Excuse me, Draco, but you don't know me well enough to make those assumptions."
"Don't I?" he challenged. "I have known you as long as Potter and Weasley. Perhaps not as intimately, but to say I don't know you is incorrect."
"But I-
"Unless there's another reason you broke up with Weasley?"
"We just grew apart," she said defensively. "We were in different places-
"You had goals which didn't fit in with his," he interrupted knowingly. "Which really just confirms my point about your ambition. You needn't get so defensive, Granger, it was inevitable that you two wouldn't work."
She folded her arms across her chest. "Since when are you so bloody observant and knowledgeable about relationships?"
"I'm not," he said, pausing to smirk. "I just know a mismatch when I see one-
"I'll have you know that our relationship was a good one when we were together."
"Good?" he echoed. "Isn't that a synonym for tedious when talking about relationships?"
