A Slow Cruel Descent

A Fragile Ascent Part 2

"Now tell me now where you want to go. Because if you don't, I'm going to apparate you to your manor," Hermione said, panting angrily, her wand clenched in her fist. Her jaw was set. Her mind made up.

"Granger, if you make me leave, you know all I will do is worry about you. And it won't matter who you send to lie to me."

Hermione stood rigidly for a moment before her shoulders slumped and she turned away from him. Frustrated and at a loss.

He closed the space between them and grasped her wrist to turn her back toward him. His fingers were cold from the wind. Then he tilted her face up to look at him.

"Let me stay here with you," he said quietly. "I won't do anything you don't want me to. Just let me stay so I know you're alright."

She shook her head.

"Surely, there's somewhere else you'd rather go," she said. She pulled her face away from his touch.

"Where do you think I should go?" he asked.

She hesitated. Any of his friends who weren't dead were imprisoned.

"Anywhere. You can go anywhere," she said.

"What would the point be? I barely left my manor even before the end of the war. There were few places that I found comfortable then. I imagine there are even fewer now. I highly doubt you could even get me a room without pulling strings. And if you did, they'd probably still throw me out as soon as you left. Unless we go to Knockturn Alley."

That was a dirty card to play. She hadn't really anticipated that he wouldn't want to go back to his manor. Although in retrospect it wasn't surprising. The last time he'd been there was the day Voldemort died. Her clothes were probably still in his room.

"You—can stay," she said slowly, trying to calculate. "But if you want to leave you have to promise you'll tell me. I don't want you staying here to spare my feelings. And if I—if I dissociate—just leave me. Don't kiss me." She swallowed. "I don't want you to kiss me—anymore."

He nodded in agreement.

"Alright," he said.

"Alright," she said, stepping away from him and turning to walk back to the cottage.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time moved slowly.

Hermione felt constantly nervous. Draco's presence within the cottage completely overshadowed her mind.

When they were in the same room, he was all she could think about it. And when he wasn't, his absence was was all she could think about.

She was so worried.

Worried she'd give in and reach for him instinctively. That she'd break down and beg him not to think she had lost her mind; to give her a chance. She was always afraid she'd turn around to find him watching her with guilt or pity in his eyes. And she was terrified that eventually he would decide to leave and she'd be unable to bear it. That she'd try to convince him to stay. And the thought that he would stay horrified her as much as her terror that he wouldn't.

She'd start worrying about it. Start obsessing. When she'd obsess, she'd spiral. And then down she'd go.

Again.

And again.

When she'd blink she'd always find Draco there, waiting for her.

Sometimes he'd be talking to her. Most of the time she'd find herself sitting next to him on the couch while he read a book.