As Hermione turned on the gas stove in her flat, two pots clanged together, a sound that woke her up just a bit more after her activities the previous night. Slowly, she lowered two thick pieces of ham onto one of the now hot pans, and two eggs onto the other one. Thump. Thump. Thump. She heard footsteps coming down the hall, and small, playful smile spread across her face.

"Morning." His voice woke her senses, and as his arms wrapped around her waist, his hands fiddling with the ties of her silk robe, she inhaled his musky scent.

"Morning to you, too," she said, smiling a little wider. He leaned his head down and kissed the side of her neck, before retreating backwards and taking a seat at the small island in the middle of her kitchen. She turned around, holding a spatula with one hand and the pan holding the meat in the other. Letting out a small chuckle at the sight of him, sitting there reading the paper in just his dark green boxers, she scooped on piece of ham onto his plate and one onto the other, directly across from him, before turning around quickly and going for the other pan.

Come on, Hermione. You need to tell him. You were supposed to tell him last night. Her conscience and her heart battled with each other inside her head as she flipped the eggs over one last time, and turning around again. That little piece of gold should be on your finger right now. And he's going to be here any minute to pick you up, and what's he gonna see? Mr. Dark Prince sitting here in his boxers and you without that ring on.

She begged her conscience to shut up, for she was sure that it would show across her face that the words in her mind were causing her some grief. As she scooped the final pieces of egg onto her plate, he smiled up at her, his endless grey eyes peeking out from under his long, blonde bangs. Hermione blinked and sat down, beginning to eat. This was the way it had been for a while. After the war, everyone was hurting. The man she loved, the man that was due at her house any minute, was still grieving. So when he, the man now sitting at her kitchen table, had shown up at her door, dirty with tears streaming down his face, all Hermione could offer was a friend and comfort. But she had no idea what a little pain and loneliness could do. So, last night, after her…fiancé…had left her at her flat, Hermione had called him over so she could end it. Once and for all. That is, until she had seen the chocolates and the roses. And that's how they ended up in the same position they've been in almost every morning since the war, almost two years ago.

Hermione looked up after she finished eating, and started to speak.

"Listen, I-"

"Hey, I-"

They both smiled at the awkwardness of the situation. Hermione nodded for him to go first, and he laughed and wiped his mouth.

"Well, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go to the new cinema that's opening in London square tonight. I hear that some good pictures are playing, and I managed to get us two seats." She blinked, astonished.

"But…but you don't like pictures, or anything Muggle, for that matter." At least, this is the way she had known him to be since about first year.

"You're a Muggle." He had a point there, and a smirk came across his face. "And I obviously like you. Plus, I know you love the pictures. You go with Weasley all the time." Another good point. But most of those times, they had been accompanied by a curious Mr. Weasley, who spent most of the picture rattling off questions to her about how the people were moving without an enchantment.

"I can't," she said suddenly, standing up and grabbing their plates. "Mrs. W-er-Molly and Ronald are coming over to discuss a few things." He stood up after her, and walked to where she stood at the sink, wrapping his arms around her waist again.

"Just say you have to stay late at work. They'll understand." That'll never work, she thought. We work in the same bloody office. She looked down at the imaginary watch that had gotten her out of this situation so many times before.

"Is that the time?" She pretended to hurry about, and unbound herself from him. "I have to get ready for work." She looked down at what she was wearing, his shirt over her undergarments, and muttered under her breath as she headed towards her bedroom. She heard him following her, and quickened her pace, throwing off her robe and his shirt, laying them on the bed. He came up to her again, this time from the front, and took her hands.

"What's the rush," she heard him whisper, before his lips trailed small kisses down her neck. Biting her lip, she pulled away and grabbed a t-shirt off the top of her chair. He looked confused, and a bit peeved that she was playing, what he was probably thinking was a game of hard to get. She threw the shirt over her head and smoothed her hair down a bit. It was the same shirt she had worn yesterday, but hopefully no one would notice with a jacket.

"I have so much paperwork to file about that house elf abuse case in Gloucester." She said it as casually as possible, though she could hear her own voice cracking. Calm down, her heart spoke, the less rational of the two. You're only going to make him suspect that something's up. Just tell him later, after you've had a chance to talk to Ginny. She'll know what to do. And she planned to do just that, after she could get out of here. She headed to the side of her bed, with him still trailing along, and pulled her jeans from the floor. Before she could stop it, or do anything, something small and gold fell out of the pocket of her jeans, and thudded to the floor with a resounding pang. Hermione bit her lip again, and looked down as he bent over and picked the ring up off the floor. Her mind flashed back to the night before, when another man had been in almost the exact position before her, giving her the ring.

When he stood up, holding the ring before him, the look in his eyes made Hermione with that she could undo everything. The last two years of sneaking around behind Ronald's back, the two years of deception, of passion, of pure love she had felt for not only one, but two men. The look that Draco Malfoy gave Hermione Granger in that very moment made her want to do one of two things, maybe both: Cry and/or throw up. But she had neither option as he stared her down, waiting for her to explain.

"Well?" She could hear that he was mad, from the tone in his voice.

"Draco…" Her voice cracked again, barely above a whisper. "I-I didn't kn-know how to tell y-you." Ok, now she just sounded like Neville back in first year. She sniffled, holding back the tears that were pooling in her eyes. Draco took in a deep breath and glanced from the ring and back to her, the anger in his eyes burning deeply.

"You didn't know how to tell me, Hermione?" He was repeating her, a sarcastic hint in his voice. "I thought you said that things were cooling down with Weasley. And that you were planning on ending it soon?" She bit her lip and looked down, her face flushing a bit. "You said you loved me, you said that you were going to end it with him so that we could be together." He emphasized things by throwing the ring onto her bed and taking a step back from her. Hermione picked it up off the bed and held it, while she put her pants on the rest of the way, and slid the ring on her finger. He gave her that look again, and she sniffled.

"I…I love you both." She sounded so unsure, even she didn't believe her words. Draco took a step back towards her and put his hands on her shoulders.

"And I love you too, Hermione." She sniffled again, and tried not to snort. That was not the first time she had heard that. All the times he had said it, while laying sprawled across her bed, trying to catch their breaths.

"No, Draco, you don't. You love the sex." He squared his jaw and let go of her, looking like he was about to punch someone. Grabbing her wand off the side table, Hermione apparated out of the room. She didn't care where she was going, the first place she thought of being Ginny's, she just needed to get out of there, fast. She knew that if she told Ron what had been going on, he would probably forgive her, his family being a different story. But for now, she just needed to be away. Away from both men that she thought she loved.