Meet Me In The Broom Cupboard

Chapter Fifteen: Eighth Year, September

Draco tried all night to work up the courage to knock on Hermione's door so that he could talk to her. One minute he would take a deep breath and stride across the room to her door, fist raised and ready to knock, and the next minute he would be walking back to the sofa having lost his nerve.

Around midnight, as he paced in front of her door, he heard a soft snore from inside and decided to call it a night. He changed into his pyjama bottoms and slipped between the sheets, hoping that Hermione would want to talk to him in the morning.

In the end he didn't have to wait that long. Screams that rattled the windows woke him from his dreamless sleep in the early hours. He jumped out of bed, wand in hand, and ran out of his own bedroom and into Hermione's.

She was sat upright in bed and he could see, even in the darkness, that she was drenched in sweat.

'Lumos.' He whispered, casting a light around the room as he went to sit beside her and make sure she was okay.

'Draco?' Hermione asked as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

'I'm here.' He whispered. He didn't touch her or sit too close but his fingers itched to reach out and place a comforting hand anywhere that she would allow him to.

'What time is it?' She asked with a yawn, stretching her arms above her head to tie her hair away from her face. Draco looked away, moving to stand up from her bed, as her shirt rode up and exposed a strip of stomach.

'Just gone 4am, I think.' He mumbled. Hermione nodded and stepped out of bed, a hairs breadth away from Draco's bare chest.

'Tea?' She asked in a strained voice, trying not to look at his half naked body.

'Is it not a bit early?' He asked, raising an eyebrow.

'I'm not going to be able to sleep again.' She admitted. 'But I'll keep quiet if you want to go back to bed.'

'No, I'll take the tea.' He insisted with a nod, throwing on a T-shirt that he Accio'd from his bedroom as they walked to the kitchen in silence.

Like earlier, Draco sat on the counter and watched as Hermione made them both tea the Muggle way. She even added two sugars to his mug before handing it over.

'How did you know?' He asked with a smile.

'I'm observant.' She said with a simple shrug. He kept smiling when he realised that she must have watched him make tea at breakfast before.

Draco sat on the sofa, where only hours ago he had been working up the courage to talk to Hermione, while she sat on the armchair. When she pulled a blanket off the back of the armchair and wrapped it around her shoulders, Draco almost choked on his tea.

'Are you okay?' She asked, trying not to laugh as he tried to hide the coughing fit.

'Is that the blanket from Sixth Year?' He asked, placing his mug on the coffee table. Hermione blushed and nodded. 'You kept it?'

His voice was gentle, full of emotion, and in that moment Hermione completely forgot why she had ever been angry at him.

'Of course I kept it.' She whispered. She closed her eyes as he stood up from the sofa and walked the few steps over to the armchair. She heard him kneel in front of her and felt his hands rest on her knees.

'Granger,' he said. 'I'm sorry that I didn't write sooner. I'm sorry that I didn't say goodbye. I'm sorry that I'm a poor excuse of a boy who couldn't stand up to his own father when he knew what he was doing was wrong.'

Hermione placed her tea on the floor by Draco's feet and took his left arm, rotating it until she could see his faded Mark in the dim light. He tried to snatch his arm away so that she didn't have to see it but she held on tight.