Remain Nameless

Chapter 19

On Friday morning, Draco sighed as his eyes snapped open. He'd gone to bed so early last night after mulling over his appointment that he'd awoken just before dawn. Taking care of the more shameful part of his new morning routine (why yes he did in fact begin each morning with a raging hard-on for Granger, thank you for asking) he dragged himself down to the dining room.

He felt completely spent, emotionally and physically, after his breakdown yesterday and subsequent angst-inducing discussion with Healer Browning. Fine, he could admit he missed Granger. He could admit he cared about her. But now what the hell was he supposed to do with this information? Browning may have dismissed the last obstacle as simply "fear" but to Draco it wasn't so trite. Honestly, what if she truly did not feel the same way? What if she was more comfortable being friends with him? What if he was so hopelessly forgettable that one week away was enough for her to remember how much better her life was without him in the picture?

Out of sight, out of mind, right?

"Good morning sir," Crick suddenly piped up from beside him.

"Er, good morning."

"Apologies, sir, but as you retired so early last night I held the evening post for you. Here you are." The tiny elf handed him two pieces of mail then disappeared before Draco could even thank him.

In his hands he found a letter from his mother which he summarily tossed aside in favor of a far more interesting item. It was a postcard. A postcard from Venice.

Letting out a breath he was unconsciously holding, he slowly turned the card over. Neat script he knew to be Granger's covered the entire back.

Greetings from Venice!

I'm writing this while camped out on the Bridge of Two Suns, and honestly, I'm not sure how to describe the magic I witnessed as the sun set on the water and simultaneously rose on the opposite side. Truly, I cannot thank you enough for the recommendation, it put my mind at ease just as I was beginning to fret over my upcoming presentation. I've already booked time in the ancient scrolls section of the magical library here and before you roll your eyes and call me an 'unrepentant nerd who wouldn't know fun if it hexed her in the face' I've decided to research the magical properties of this phenomenon. There must be an explanation for this occurrence, I'm sure. There's an elemental quality to the magic, but I'm positive older writings can shed light on whether a branch of divination is also involved. Not that I'm convinced of that mind you, I think you know how I feel about that particular subject. All this to say, the city is very beautiful and I'm glad you shared this travel tip with me, even if the experience was on my own. Try not to eat all the café's blueberry scones while I'm away, please.

See you soon,

Hermione

Draco read through her message once, twice, three times, then a couple more for good measure. Several minutes later and he had the damn thing memorized.

"Unrepentant nerd who wouldn't know fun if it hexed her in the face," did sound exactly like the sort of playful insult he'd lob her way. He chuckled at the image of her eyes narrowing while he smirked at her, before she'd eventually crack and let a smile loose.

Merlin he missed her smile. And her glares. And how easy it was to irritate her.

There it was again: that pesky sprouting of hope inside his chest. She'd thought to send him a letter during her trip. And since this had arrived Thursday, it meant she'd most likely sent this owl on her very first evening. Trying not to dwell on what that might mean, he tucked the missive into his inner breast pocket and left for work.