Forget About It (Dramione)

23| Can't Do It

A/N: Hi guys! Thanks so so much to anyone who's reading this far!!!! Hope you're enjoying and I always love getting feedback :) 

Hopefully you don't think that escalated too fast. I just feel Hermione's been trying so hard to be his enemy for so long, and she's sort of finally realised she's not. 

I've loved writing this so much!! So hopefully you're liking it as much as i am. 

Much love :)

Hermione's feet clattered over the stone pavings, tracing the path she'd taken so many times before. She could walk it with her eyes closed, so getting there drunk was easy enough. 

It wasn't even 10 o'clock yet, she thought as an attempt to justify her desperation. Draco would still be there. Hopefully. She wasn't sure if she could wait until morning. Her heart was beating faster than it ever had before, although that might've been the firewhiskey. She wanted more than anything to see Draco again, for her to laugh with him, be the brunt of one of his jokes, for him to smile at her warmly. She hadn't realised how much she'd come to enjoy seeing him smile. 

Finally, after what felt like an age, she reached the room. The door came to life out of the stone at a pace she swore was slower than usual, and, as fast as she could, she pushed her way in. 

The two armchairs and the half-finished bottle were still there in the middle of the open space, like they were sat in the middle of a forest clearing, hidden from the world, their little secret. Draco's bag was still there, too, a little black leather lump that made her breathe a sigh of relief. He was here, somewhere, although she couldn't see him. 

"Draco!" She shouted at the top of her lungs, hoping he wasn't too far into the maze to hear her. A gust of wind seemed to come out of nowhere, rustling pages of books and hidden objects inside the great mounds. Silence prevailed, and her heart began to sink. Maybe he'd just left his things, and he had gone. She'd certainly given him good reason to.

And then, as if he were an apparition coming out of a veil of smoke, his tall, green-clad, white-haired figure appeared from between two towers of junk. He walked over to her, watching her quizzically, running a hand that wasn't holding his wand over his hair. "Hermione? I thought you'd gone to bed," he asked, confused. 

"I broke up with Ron," she gushed, but no tears threatened to fall this time. It all just felt right, no matter how much Draco was looking at her like she'd gone clinically insane. 

He raised his eyebrows, looking more cautious than happy. Hermione wondered why he didn't look more pleased. She'd broken up with Ron, and come back here, all for him. For Draco Malfoy. Why wasn't he happy? She knew he liked her, she'd known for so long that she'd just accepted it as unchangeable fact. 

Draco frowned. "What the fuck? Why?" He said. There was too much space between them, Hermione thought, but Draco didn't look like he wanted to come any closer. 

Her head was becoming slightly clearer now, the fuzziness making way for a headache, which she ignored. She knew she was doing the right thing. "Because he told me that if I went to see you again, then our relationship would be over. So I said it's over." 

He looked dumbfounded. "Seriously?" 

They were too far apart, Hermione thought again, and this time she decided to do something about it. Her brain was still clouded enough to blame that if it didn't go well, she thought. She was still, technically, drunk. She had an excuse, although she knew in her heart she didn't really need one.