Bright blonde hair, brighter with the moonlight, could be seen slowly climbing the stairs of the Astronomy tower in the early hours of the morning.
Draco took the final stone step, arriving on the bottom level. Just before he was going to climb to the second level, he heard the wood creak from above. Pulling his wand out, he adjusted his cloak against the cold air and carefully climbed up the wooden stairs.
He looked over and saw a slim frame, leaning with their back on the side of a window frame and their arms resting around relaxed legs.
He came closer, immediately recognizing the dark head of curls.
She had her head turned away, but still knew he was there. "Malfoy."
"How'd you know it was me?" Draco questioned.
"I know your footsteps. I heard them rather clearly that night." She turned and faced him. Her face wasn't streaked with tears, no, but with solemness.
He decided to not answer, sitting down on the other side of the frame. He rested his back against it, stretching out his legs so that his shoes grazed her own limbs.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have sat there. Even if I hated you."
"You had no other choice." She didn't have any sympathy in her voice nor did she face him. Rather finality and a whispered tone. "I never held it against you. We'd both be dead if you tried anything."
He studied her for just a moment. He never thought of her as anything but a prude bookworm, but now he just saw all the little details that makes up a piece of art.
"Granger," he murmured. "Do you have trouble sleeping?"
Hermione tore her eyes off of the starry sky to look at his somber expression. "I have visions, nightmares, and everything in between. Sleeping draughts fail me."
He nodded. "Me too."
"It's not the dreams," he continued. "It's the thoughts of how all I am has been a lie, and I can't remember the last time I was truly...happy."
She was silent for a moment before reaching over to take his hand.
"It's hard to remember the people we used to be."
She gave it a small squeeze and his eyes a small smile before turning back to look at the stars.
Not once letting go of his hand.
