Coping Mechanisms

27. Hermione

Hermione's heart fluttered as they exited McGonagall's office, Draco directly on her heels. The book in her arms was warm from the constant contact, its leathery cover smooth against her skin. It was nearly as warm as the boy behind her, his presence a steady heat down the stairs. A step away from him felt like a step too far, like an invisible cord strung them together. Hermione couldn't put it into words, her feelings muddling more and more over time. Every moment with Draco felt wrong, but so right, a satisfying sort of whiplash.

She wondered if he felt it too.

Hermione's steps faltered as they reached the gargoyle's stony landing, Draco slowing to match her pace. She paused in the hallway, oblivious to everything but the Slytherin boy as she turned back to face him, her stomach a cauldron of nerves. He stepped into her space, the edge of his lip curving into a half-smile.

"Thank you for today," she said again, hyperaware of his nearness. His silver eyes glinted like metal, making the pit of her stomach do an odd sort of jump.

"It was my pleasure," Draco whispered, his arm lifting to push a strand of hair behind her ear. Every nerve ending felt white hot where his fingers grazed her cheek, and Hermione found herself leaning into his touch, his hand simply magnetic.

"Draco," she sighed, her gaze locked on his lips.

"Hermione," he whispered, his breath mingling with her own.

"Mione?" a voice echoed behind them. Hermione stiffened as Draco's eyes flashed towards its source. His expression hardened immediately, closing off from the warmth it'd held all morning. His hand fell from her hair and Hermione turned, heart simultaneously falling. Ginny, Ron, and Harry stood outside her door, all eyes locked on the pair. Ginny had spoken out, brows furrowed in confusion, Harry's face reflecting hers.

Ron's cheeks were cherry red, nostrils flaring.

"Ginny," Hermione spoke, hugging the book tightly against her chest.

"Since when are you on a first name basis with Malfoy?" The youngest Weasley's eyes flew between Draco and Hermione, studying them harshly. Hermione swallowed back her fear, hoping her face looked as impassive as Draco's.

"What are you doing here?" she asked instead, voice surprisingly steady, even as her stomach did somersaults.

"We came to wish you a happy birthday," Harry answered, taking a hesitant step forward. Neither Weasley made to move.

"And, uh, Neville told us about your parents," Harry continued, rubbing the back of his neck. "We thought you might need a friend."

"I can see we were wrong though," Ron finally spoke, his voice laced with a monotone hatred. He pushed past Ginny and Harry to stand at the front of the group, fists visibly shaking at his sides.

Draco stepped closer behind her, his chest almost touching her back. His presence felt mountainous, like a titan ready to raise Hell.

"I told you both she didn't need us," Ron seethed. "She's too good for us now."

"You've always been too good for them," Draco whispered, low enough for only her to hear.

"What the fuck did you say?" Ron hissed. Harry immediately grabbed his arm.

"Ron," Harry said calmly, edging his way in front of the Weasley boy. Ginny stood mutely at their sides, eyes still locked on Draco.

Hermione fully noticed the gift wrapped box in Ginny's hands.

"After all we've been through," Ron grunted in disbelief. "You'd choose him over us? After everything he's done?" Ron's head shook once, ginger hair parading across his brow. Hermione simply held his stare, the book weightless in her arms. All eyes flew to her, waiting for an answer, any sort of response.