My first time writing Dramione, haha. I love the shipping a little too much, though. This was rather fun to write.

Her

A Dramione Fanfic

One Shot

She has fiery eyes. The type that grip you, keep you on the edge of your seat. Her hair, a jumbled mess, has been tamed over the years until it is only a mildly frizzy soft brown mass. Time has treated her well, giving her long, lean legs, a flawless complexion, and tanned skin.

She's beautiful, he observes, and then instantly berates himself for thinking something like that of a vile Mudblood.

Instinct is still trapping him. Even after all this time.

But then he remembers. His father is dead. The Dark Lor- Voldemort is dead. The war is over.

He has nothing to fear.

Nothing except her.

"Hello," she greets brightly. Her smile, as it always has been, is charming. She is charming. "How may I help you?"

She hasn't looked at him yet, but she will soon.

Granger, look at me. Please. Look at what I've become.

She takes that moment to look over the counter at him, and her mouth falls open in shock. Draco can't tell whether it's a pleasant surprise or a horrid one. Probably the latter.

But he could not help himself from coming here. Something forced him to.

Impulse. His own self-hatred.

"Hey, Granger," he says coolly, quirking an eyebrow at her, as if this a perfectly normal situation.

Neither of them say anything for a few moments. Luckily, there is nobody else in the bookstore. It's a quiet day today. He has her all to himself.

He instantly feels furious at himself for even thinking such a thing.

Pathetic, he tells himself. You're pathetic.

"Hello, Malfoy," she says finally. It looks like she's trying to look blasé, and failing awfully. A smile tugs at the corners of her mouth.

"I was in town and – well –" Draco shrugs. "I heard you were around. I thought I'd drop by." He half-smiles. "Nice home, by the way, Granger. I knew you loved books, but owning a bookstore, at twenty two? Impressive."

She smiles properly this time. "Thank you, I think. Where's home for you, then? Where have you been living since graduation?" she questions him. And then adds, "Your family's manor?"

He shakes his head, and has to bite his tongue to prevent himself from making some harsh remark. "No. Everywhere, really." He smiles wryly. "I don't have a home."

Her eyes soften, and the formality is quickly dropped. She walks around the counter and stands before him, peering into his eyes.

"I've missed you, you know," she tells him. It seems to take all of her courage to confess this.

"That's funny," he deadpans, "the last time you saw me you seemed to hate me a significant amount."

She sighs sadly. "Malfoy, we always knew this would never work. Besides, Ron…he was…"

"Please, call me Draco," he spits at her harshly. "You and weasel, then?"

This was a bad idea. He knew it would be.

He should never have come.

Granger glares at him, pulling herself to her full height. "Not anymore, no. Not after he cheated on me for a muggle girl," she hisses. "But thanks for the well-wishes, you disgusting scoundrel. You come here, invading my privacy, and I think that maybe we can make nice, that maybe, after all this time, you've outgrown your stubbornness, your immaturity – but obviously not. Obviously you're still exactly the same as –"

"Granger."

"I can't believe you have the nerve to come in here and–"

"Granger."

"What?" She's still glaring at him furiously.

"Shut up."

He grabs her, pushing her against the counter. Then, his lips are against hers, soft and demanding and so, so familiar. And she kisses him back, taking his top lip between her teeth and biting softly. Her hands around his neck, and his around her waist.

Merlin, he's missed this.

This is why nowhere is home for me, Draco thinks to himself. Because she's home. She's ruined me.

"Don't think I automatically forgive you now," Granger breathes finally, panting. Her thumb is rubbing his cheek gently, so softly.

His heart is thumping. "I have time," he says.

Her answering smile is so adorable that he has to kiss her again.