sekkoon

CHAPTER 1

Something seemed to click inside of Hermione from that very moment. His words were ringing in her ears two weeks later... 'Remember me, do you, Granger?' ... 'Remember me...?' Could he have possibly though she had ever dreamed to forget? Forget him - them?

Before Hermione had been able to reply that day, his wife had swooped back over, a false smile across her pretty face.

'And this is...?' She asked icily, whilst Draco shook his head, still looking right at Hermione.

'No one.' He had said it so very slowly, it felt like each letter of his words was hurting her - stabbing her, pinching her... laughing at her. Draco had put his arm around his wife's shoulders, and turned and walked away. Just like that. Hermione had remained rooted to the spot, hardly daring to breath in case of waking up from another twisted dream... or nightmare.

The children wrote every week - particularly Tia, who seemed to take great delight in giving minute by minute accounts of her lessons, break times, meal times, and just seconds in general. Hermione didn't mind a bit though, she smiled tearfully as she read through each piece of parchment, filled with excited words and scribbles out and blotches of ink. She knew just from the gabbling way Tia wrote that she was having a fabulous time at Hogwarts. And it made her happy... and sad at the same time. She prayed her daughter would never have any major problems in life - she didn't even want her to have the burden of decisions. And she knew this was the wrong way to parent, but she also knew she wanted to keep her daughter safe from anything and everything out there that would or could hurt her.

Hermione's days passed in a blur, with only one thing lingering in her mind, really. Remember me... do you? Ron complained how unresponsive she was these days, and Hermione quickly blamed her attitude on missing the children... and she also tried to persuade herself that this was part of the cause as well. No one... That's what he had said. Draco. She was no one. An empty shell... maybe he was right, after all.

It was almost two months later when things began to change. Hermione was sitting eating breakfast alone in her kitchen, when there was a tap-tap-tapping at the window. With interest, she got up to let the large barn owl in. It swooped to her table, knocking over her orange juice, and then freezing to peer up at her with huge, amber eyes.

Hermione snatched the letter from it's claws, not knowing if she wanted to know who it was from, or not. Unfolding it, she began to read.

You didn't get a chance to answer my question, Granger. Do you remember me? It was nice of you to say goodbye properly when you decided to run away with those blundering fools. Was that my payback? For all of those years of taunting you; the time I began to have any real feelings, you decided to walk away from me. Smooth Granger, but I didn't think it was your style.

Do you regret running off? Why did you do it? Because you were scared? Of me? Or of what you were feeling? Both, I'll guess. Well I can acknowledge you have your happy little family now Granger, but that's not what you really wanted, was it? Have you ever had any passion in your life? Since me, of course. Yes, you have your family, you have ahusband and no doubt two wonderful children - yet I can predict you're longing for more. And that's what scares you; the fact I know you so well, after such short a time, and a very long gap in between.

If you have the bottle to reply, do it.

Malfoy.

Hermione only realized she was crying when she refocused her eyes, and saw the teardrops on the parchment. She hastily wiped at her eyes, glaring down at the letter. How dare he even act like he knows her? How dare he say what she had wasn't what she wanted? She wouldn't give up or change her children for anything in the world! Especially not him! Grabbing her already knocked ovr glass from the table, she lifted it and threw it with all her might at the opposite wall, so as it smashed with a tinkle and fell to the floor in shining shards of glass. The owl jumped violently, and gave an indignant hoot. Taking a deep breath, she sat back down at the table, shaking now, as she summoned a quill and fresh piece of parchment to write on.

Malfoy - you're still as arrogant as ever, then? How can you possibly even think of writing to me - after everything? You dare to say I'm 'no one' and then write to me a month later, accusing me of having an empty life! I assure you - there is no contest between you and my family! And if you think there is - you are even more conceited than I ever dreamed to think!

Don't bother writing again; I have nothing to say to you. And you shouldn't have anything to say to me, either.

Granger.

Hermione scribbled over her name to make it stand out, and underlined it just for courage. She hoped it would remind him they had been enemies - and now, as far as she was concerned, they were again. Back to the old days. The Owl took off with her letter rapidly, giving Hermione no time to change her mind about writing back, or about the content of her letter... A short, scrappy note was returned to her.

Meet me in Hogsmead, Shrieking Shack,
Saturday, 9:00pm.
If you hate me as much as you say you do,
you won't be there.

Hermione shivered as she scrunched up the note in her hand. This was it, her chance. She had been waiting for it for so long - no matter what she had replied to him. She didn't hate him, and a part of her still held the burning desire for him it had a long time ago, no less fiery yet less bothering.

Saturday arrived, and Hermione sat at home with her knees hugged to her chest, at half past eight that night. Ron was in the kitchen, washing up from that nights meal he had so beautifully made for her. If she went to meet Draco now, she knew guilt would eat her up inside... but it already was... she had been on the verge of showing Ron Draco's letters twice so far... yet she never could bring herself to do it. She didn't know how he would react - and that terrified her, because she thought she knew everything about Ron, but now she coulnd't picture him angry... heartbroken... amused... nothing - she couldn't grasp how he would feel about this.

'Ron! I'm going out!' Hermione called through to the kitchen, and she had grabbed her coat and dissapparated away before Ron had even appeared in the doorway. Thinking of nothing but... but telling Draco how she had completely moved on, she arrived outside of the Shrieking Shack, and she pulled her coat around her shoulders, the cool September breeze whipping at her hair and clothes.

'You're early.' Came a voice from behind her, and she spun to see Draco a metre from her. She wondered vaguely how he had gotten so close without any noise - she hadn't even heard him apparate there.

'You didn't even know if I would come.' Hermione said coldly.

'Oh I knew you'd be here.' Draco shrugged, stepping closer to her. She took a step back, and it was like a flashback of so many years ago... she could almost feel the stone walls behind her, the flickering torches in the corridors of Hogwarts watching them apprehensively...
'Knew you couldn't resist-'

'Resist what, exactly? You?' Hermione laughed, glaring at him.

'Precisely.'

'I came here to tell you to leave me alone, Malfoy, nothing else.' She snapped, turning her gaze away from his and to the Shrieking Shack.

'Really? Ok... you've told me. You can go now.' He offered, shrugging his shoulders and putting his hands in the pockets of his long black coat. Hermione stayed where she was, willing herself to dissapparate away, but something inside of her was refusing point blank to move - and that was what was controlling her right now.

'Thought not.' He nodded. Then he started walking - away from her, towards the house. 'Come on then.' He called back, and Hermione found her legs following him, walking quickly to catch up, and then walking only a single step behind, her blood racing through her vains as she worried about what was to happen next.

Hermione followed him into the spooky house, her eyes darting around, as if expecting him to turn around and shout: GOTCHA! ... But he didn't. The door swung shut of it's own accord behind Hermione, and she jumped away from it, startled. Draco had turned and caught her, not knowing what the scream was for. One hand gripped her waist, the other her lower arm. Hermione cleared her throat now, about to pull back...

# posted by Sek Koon @ 8:49 AM