wildflowers // dramione

Chapter 26

It took time, but eventually Draco got Hermione to believe that he truly was sorry for everything he said. He had to confess to her that he was willing to risk ruining things with his family for her. He had to tell her that they wouldn't have to be a secret if they returned back to their friends, though that was still an edgy topic. Hermione didn't like to think about her friends. It killed her, so she just refused to let herself think about them. It was easier to focus on Draco, who was actually there and not in some unknown place doing some unknown activity.

It took four days, but things were finally back to normal with the pair of wizards. It was April 1st and Hermione was trying not to focus on the date, since it was Fred and George Weasley's birthday. She hated missing out on a classic Weasley birthday celebration, especially the Twins' one, but she wasn't even sure they would still be throwing a party, with the war and all. Hermione had no idea what was even happening with the Order or the Death Eaters. Hermione had no idea if Fred and George were even alive to celebrate their 20th birthday. She had no idea if any of the people she loved were alright.

Thanks to the date, Hermione had been quite down today and Draco wasn't sure what to do. He wasn't good at comforting others like she was. At least they were past their argument and were comfortable with each other again. If they hadn't of been, Hermione might have been even more distraught today.

"Should I make some tea?" Draco asked. It was late in the day, close to 6:30 pm. He stood outside Hermione's door. She hadn't left her bedroom since they'd returned from their short, and silent, walk.

Hermione didn't reply.

"You have to say something. You have to stop thinking about all of them, Hermione. It's been a month," Draco said.

"Has it really been that long?" Hermione mumbled. Draco couldn't hear her voice through the door.

"Hermione, did you hear me? It's been a month since you've seen any of them. You should stop worrying. Any possibilities you're coming up with in your head probably are not true or far worse than the truth. Potter and the Weasleys and the Order are all probably fine."

The door swung open to reveal a puffy eyed Hermione, a scowl across her face. "Don't be ignorant. You know just as well as I that there's a significant probability that they're all fighting the Dark Lord right now. Or dead." Hermione's voice was weak and broke on the last word. She tried to close the door again, but a pale hand blocked it.

"You can't think like that. It's only been a month. Nothing of great importance can have happened." Draco reached his hand out to Hermione's cheek. "If it makes you feel better, we can listen to that bloody Potterwatch every night to make sure of it."

"I just can't stand it anymore. I hate being away from them all and not being able to help. I hate not knowing if they're ok. I hate not knowing what's going on. I've been able to push it away lately, but today...today just hurts more." Hermione lowered her head and sighed.

"Granger, come on. You're definitely capable of pulling yourself together." Draco hated himself for being so untalented at comforting people. He knew by the look on Hermione's face that he wasn't helping. He tried to correct himself. "But, um, who am I to judge? I had a pathetic panic attack over a bad dream." Draco forced a chuckle, hoping to cheer Hermione up with humor, self-deprecating or not.

"You aren't pathetic." Hermione looked up at Draco. His hand was still on her cheek and he rubbed away old tears with his thumb. Hermione took another deep breath and brought her hand up to Draco's on her face. She pulled his hand off her and interlocked their fingers. "And neither am I."

Hermione sniffled and stood up straight and tall. Draco smiled. Hermione wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and ran her hands through her hair. Suddenly her lip quivered, her tough expression faltered, and her shoulders slumped again. She shut her eyes and tears fell down. They left little dots in the carpet at their feet. Draco's smile transformed into a frown and he grew awkward, unsure of what to do to help the crying witch in front of him. Draco, wary and hesitant, put an arm around Hermione and embraced her in a hug. She rested her forehead on his chest and buried her face in his shirt. Her voice was muffled when she spoke.