Disclaimer: NOT MINE!
Parings: Draco/Harry. Implied: Ron/Hermione (Later. Much later…), Severus/Hermione.
Rating: R / M (just to be sure…)
Summary: Harry and Draco, who are paired up together for Muggle Studies, are forced to live together without magic for two months. Will they survive each others' wit and charms or does fate have something else in mind?
Note: Repost. Just working out some kinks before adding a new chapter into the mix. Mostly spell checks and the likes.
I'm not in love
Prologue
Hermione sighed as she closed the book she had been reading for the past hour and sat it gently on her lap. Looking up, she glanced through the window on her left to find that the last star of the night was twinkling faintly, finally giving way to the sun that was about to rise. Leaning back against the window, Hermione brought her legs closer to her chest, cradling the book in between. From her position on the window seat, she could see a lone figure stir slightly on the bed without being awaken.
Leaning forward, Hermione stared at the basket at the other end of the seat. A small smile crept onto her lips as she gazed into the basket where a pair of roses laid plainly against each other, waiting for her to put them on display for the world to see. Reaching out, she traced the outer petal of the red one – hers. Lost in her own thoughts, she was barely aware when the other being finally rose from slumber and looked at her with sleep filled eyes.
"'Mione?" the voice croaked as he rubbed his eyes, trying to chase away the remaining sleepiness. Without looking up, Hermione nodded her head slightly. "Is it time?"
"Yes," she answered simply as she stared out at the now starless night, clutching the book tighter in her arms. As a soft breeze swept through the open window, Hermione closed her eyes and leaned back against the cool glass. A single tear escaped from the corner of her eye but was caught before it could slide down her pale cheek.
"No tears. He would want you to be strong," Harry said as Hermione nodded her head. Exhaling softly, Harry peeled away the book that she was clutching tightly against her chest and slowly placed it on the window seat. Reaching forward, he pulled her into a tight hug.
Hermione stiffened slightly but soon relaxed as she allowed herself to be pulled into the embrace, finally being able to accept some sort of comfort from another being. It was foreign, the touch, even though it came from the person that knew her best. Tilting her head slightly, she stared at the blood red book that she had read countless times and tears started to form once again as she read the title that was now embroidered into her brain.
My love for you by Severus Scott Snape.
"I can't. I can't let go," Hermione choked, finally letting the tears she had been holding back spill as she hugged Harry tighter. He stroked her hair slowly and whispered comforting words to her.
"It will be alright. I'll be right here with you every step of the way and we will get through this together," Harry said as he kissed the top of her head with a gentleness that he didn't know he possessed. Nodding her head slightly, Hermione sniffed one last time and pulled back, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. With a small smile, she nodded.
"Together," she repeated firmly and Harry smiled.
As the sun rose and the first ray of light finally spilled through the window, the two of them rose to get ready for Severus' funeral.
Harry sat quietly as he stared at the white coffin in front of him. He didn't know what to think; he always thought that it would be the other way around, that Severus would be the one to bury him. Instead, there he was, sitting next to a distraught Hermione, as family and their remaining close friends gathered to say good bye.
He shivered slightly as the gentle wind of departing fall blew at them, silently drying the tears that were falling from everyone's eyes. Glancing at the one who was delivering his farewell speech, Harry couldn't help but felt disgusted at himself for the new found emotion that was threatening to overwhelm him; hatred. Hatred that Dumbledore, a person who had lived well over his appointed time, was still alive and yet Severus wasn't. Scowling, Harry tightened his hold on the yellow rose that he held in his hand. He was so caught up in his own feelings that he jumped as he felt the familiar hand of Hemione's clasp his own and gave it a gentle squeeze.
"It's time," she said, getting up and pulling him along with her. Looking around, Harry was surprised to see that everyone had begun to walk up to the coffin to say their final farewells. Standing behind Hermione, Harry was both happy, as well as sad, to find that he was the last in line.
He stood back slightly as he watched Hermione walk forward after everyone else had gone. He could see that she was struggling not to cry as she gently placed the single rose she had brought with her atop the mountain that had already grown upon the coffin. He smiled sadly as he watched her talk to him, barely even acknowledging his presence nearby, reliving their tale together, forgiving those painful as well those unsaid words between them and finally, saying her good bye. Looking to her right, Hermione stepped away from the coffin and walked to the tree Harry was standing beneath.
Harry found himself bowing slightly as he stepped forward towards the coffin. He didn't know what to say or what to do. A part of him cried out, not wanting to let go of the father figure he had seen in the man now lying dead in the white box, yet knowing that he had to. He could do nothing but place the yellow rose he was carrying next to Hermione's.
"Good bye, Sev," he murmured, "I'll miss you." It was all that he could utter. He returned to the shelter of the tree where Hermione now stood. After a stiff embrace, they walked together in silence to return home to mourn.
The pair was almost at the gate of the exit, a few steps away from the apparition point when a gust of wind brought the reality of farewell back to Harry. Unwillingly, a tear fell from his eye as the emotions that he had held in check for the past few days finally breaking free. Exhaling slightly while he brushes the stray tear away, he turned round to look at the final resting place of his friend for one last time only to catch a flash of white from the corner of his eyes. Frowning to himself, he could only watch as a lone figure approached Severus's coffin to stand in the position he had held only moments before. Leaning forward, Harry could see that the figure dropped a rose next to his own and before he could even being to fathom the meaning of it, the figure apparated away, leaving only a subtle hint as to his identity. Nevertheless, it was enough.
A single white rose.
Silver blonde hair.
Draco Malfoy.