"You were never really one of them," she argued adamantly. "And you know it-
"You fight for the Light," he continued with an almost dejected tone. "And I am part of the Dark, and that's how it is."
Hermione sighed and tried to place a hand against his back, but he shrugged her away. "It's not that simple, Draco," she tried.
"It is that simple," he growled. "You can search for the anomalies all you like, Granger, but these are the facts. Most things are black and white."
"Then why are there so many shades of grey?" she whispered, moving carefully behind him and wrapping her arms around his abdomen. She rested her cheek against the taut muscles of his back and peppered dreamy kisses down his spine. "I like the colour grey."
He sealed his eyes and tried not to bend to her lulling lips and tempting words. "You're too stubborn, Granger."
"So are you-
"It's all very well to pretend our…antics are normal in here, Granger," he scowled. "But we won't be in here forever-
"We can cross that bridge when we come to it," she offered in a quiet voice.
"It would be wise to end this now," he told her stoically, and Hermione felt her chest constrict. "I will end up hurting you."
"If you don't care about my feelings, then why should that matter?"
He flinched, and resigned himself to giving her another shred of his tattered dignity. "I never said I didn't care for your feelings."
Hermione felt the optimism warm her blood, but optimism is a dangerous thing.
"Then how do you feel for me?" she asked nervously, stroking absent shapes across his stomach. He had started their repeated use of this question, and as she considered all the previous answers they had each given, she realised how different they had become.
"I don't know," he murmured quietly. "It's…impossible to define."
"Do you still hate me?" she pushed.
He released a defeated breath and raised a hand to rub his forehead. "No," he answered after a long pause. "It would certainly be more convenient, but you know I don't, Hermione." He hesitated to take a sobering breath. "And how do you feel for me?"
She gave the back of his neck another kiss. "I like you, Draco," she admitted softly, and the confession was so innocent and honest that it made his insides clench. "I thought…I thought that was obvious-
"I will hurt you," he repeated, louder this time. "It's all very well to play fairytales in this room, but it won't last-
"Then surely it would make more sense to make the most of it," she reasoned steadily, relieved when she felt his muscles relax under her cheek. "Draco, I am getting tired of trying to convince you to stop questioning this."
He tensed his jaw. "Then why do you?"
Hermione licked her lips and hoped her voice didn't waver. "Because I feared this War had made me lose hope," she breathed. "But you reminded me how to smile."
Merlin, her honesty was crushing his resolve, but then, had he really ever wanted this to end? It was simply instinctive to question and battle it for the sake of his waning pride. He slowly placed his hand on top of hers and bowed his head in surrender as he brushed his fingers across hers.
"Never say I didn't try to warn you," he spoke stonily. "This will all end in tears."
"Perhaps," she agreed sadly. "But for now, we have no bridges-
"To cross," he finished for her, turning slightly to glimpse her over his shoulder. "Must you always work in riddles?"
"They're more like analogies," she corrected, craning her neck to peck his cheek. "Are we finished arguing?"
"We will never be finished arguing, Granger."
.
.
Hermione followed the sunken foot-tracks in the snow and dragged her hand across a branch to steady her steps.
She felt guilty for the notion, considering Draco's inability to leave, but she had needed to escape her dorm and swallow some fresh air. He had slipped away for a shower and then predictably disappeared into his room; perhaps to scorn himself again for their complicated relationship, or maybe just to catch up on lost sleep. She had no idea, and knew better than to ask when she had seen that slightly tormented look in his eyes before he had left her.
She cast a quick Warming Charm to hush the chill and seated herself on a hefty rock under a brittle and winter-beaten Oak to study the familiar surroundings. The snow had paused for Boxing Day's afternoon, and she missed that infinite childish tingle that it always gave her, but the grey clouds in the sky promised more, and she hoped it was soon.
"Miss Granger," a wise voice broke her reverie. "I thought that was you."
"Hello, Professor," Hermione greeted the Headmistress. "You needed a walk too?"
"I don't have many duties at the moment," she said with disappointment. "You looked rather distant. Is something troubling you?"
"Nothing that shouldn't be troubling me," the youngest witch shrugged.
"Would you like to be left alone with your thoughts?" McGonagall asked, bristling when a harsh wind tore through the air. "Or would you care for some company, albeit the company of an old woman?"
Hermione breathed a laugh and patted the space next to her on the boulder. "Have a seat."
"Just a moment," McGonagall muttered, removing her wand and casting a charm to soften the rock before she settled next to her student. "My back is not as forgiving as it used to be. What is on your mind, Hermione?"
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