Hello again lovelies! It's been a while since I've posted something, but I've seen the reviews and things and I can't thank everyone enough!

Anyway, this is something I wrote ages ago so I apologize if it isn't any good. I just like the plot, really. Its romantic and kind of angst-y and sort of sad, but I think it's cute.

Enjoy, and don't be afraid to leave behind your opinion!

Stay

[He's running from his dark past, walking in and out of her life; a fear of staying still. She stays exactly where she is, for fear of moving on and in hope that one day he will choose to stay]

X

He's packing again. And she watches. She's standing in the doorway, watching silently as he packs up his life-their life-into an old duffle bag. The same duffle bag he used the last time. The same duffle bag that spent the last seven months on the top shelf in her closet-their closet.
The sad part is seven months is the longest it's ever spent up there at one time.
He turns to her, his dark blond hair falling in front of his eyes. Holding his bag in his right hand and his black leather jacket in his left, he stares at her sadly, his blue-grey eyes drinking her in. Memorizing every inch of her; burning her into his memory. He hates doing this to her, hurting her like this. But it's time. Again. She looks away, unable to look at him any longer. She's been fighting tears since he told her he was leaving two hours ago, struggling to hold them back. She should be used to this by now, it's always the same. They're happy, and then he leaves-assuring her that he isn't leaving Her, he's just leaving, and that he'll be back-and then he returns expecting everything to go back to normal. Which it does. It's a vicious circle, like a carousel going around and around. A tear escapes from the bridges of her eye and slides down her cheek. A large, callused hand wipes it away before tilting her face up. Brown meets grey and she chokes back a sob.
"It's not forever. I'll be back. You know that," he whispers, leaning in and capturing her lips in his softly, tentatively. She pulls back and he dips his head shamefully.
"I might not be. I can't keep doing this. I can't wait around forever," she whispers back.
He nods, taking a step back. He knew this day would come. He knew that she would wind up hating him just enough. "I wouldn't expect you to, Love."
Although that's exactly the answer she was looking for, the answer she expected, she sort of wishes he had said otherwise. She sort of wishes that he had something along the lines of 'it's okay baby, just hold on a little while longer. Just one more time'. But she knows he'd never say that. She knows that while he wants her to wait for him, he'll never say so. He'd never stop her from moving on. The only thing
stopping her is herself. She just wishes he would give her something else to hold onto, something other than 'I'll be back'. Because it isn't a question of whether or not he's coming back, he always comes
back. It's a question of how he'll stick around. "You should go. You wouldn't want to miss your train."
He'd taken a liking to travelling by Muggle transportation over the years. There's something so relaxing, so soothing about taking the train. It gives him time to think, time to analyze the dark thoughts that are constantly running through his mind. Apparating is too quick. Flying on his room, while most of it is just natural, takes some of his concentration away. The train was perfect.
"Yeah."
She watches, with her arms crossed over her chest to protect what is left of her heart, as he sets the bag on the floor and pushes his arms through the sleeves of his jacket. The jacket she bought for him five Christmas' ago. Five years they've been doing this. Five years and this is only the second time she's watched him leave.

x

She feels the bed move behind her and hears the sound of his bare feet on the hardwood floor. Closing her eyes she listens for the familiar sound of the zipper on his duffle bag. She knows what's coming. She
knows that within the hour he will leave a note on the pillow beside her head while she pretends to sleep, before walking out the front door. She knows that he'll disappear without a trace for Merlin knows how many months before showing up at her front door with a bouquet of her favourite flowers and a hopeful smile. And she knows that when he does come back she'll welcome him with open arms.
This time is different. This time she can't hold back the tears that threaten to slip between her eyelids. This time she can't hold back the sob forcing its way up her throat.
This time when he walks back into the room to say his goodbye, she's sitting with her back against the headboard. He freezes mid step, nearly stumbling right into the door. "You're awake," he whispers, surprised.
She nods. She wants to tell him that she's always been awake. The words are on the tip of her tongue, but she can't form the.
"I uh…I don't... God Hermione this is a lot easier when you're sleeping," he admits.
"Perhaps that's why this is better. It shouldn't be easy."
"That's not what I mean, it's not easy-it's never easy-"
"Could've fooled me," she mutters, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Hey, listen to me okay? This isn't easy. But I can't...I can't stay. Not right now," he murmurs.
"If you loved me-"
"I do love you! I do...more than anything. I just-"
"So then don't go!"
"II have to. I don't want to, I have to," he says softly, walking up beside her and sitting next to her on the bed. "I'll be back in five months ,six tops. I just...I have to clear things up…" He dips his head, kissing her softly on the forehead before handing her the note and walking backwards towards the door that will lead him into the hall.
Hermione takes a long, shaky breath. "I think...Draco I don't think it's fair that you get to leave over and over and over while I'm asleep. I don't think it's fair that I have to go to bed with you one night and wake up alone the next morning. You at least owe me a goodbye-a real goodbye."
He smiles sadly, walking back towards her. He stops next to her on the bed, running his fingers through her hair. "You're wrong. It's never goodbye. Never. I'll always come back."
She smiles sadly, knowingly. "I love you."

x

He takes her face in his hands tenderly, lovingly. She takes a deep breath, looking up at him with watery eyes. Sad eyes. He leans in, dipping his head down to kiss both eyelids before resting his head on hers.
"I love you." His voice is confident. True. Unwavering.

She doesn't doubt that he loves her. She really doesn't. What she doubts is just how much he does love her. "I know…" She can't say it back. She won't. Nor does she have to, because she knows that he knows. He knows, and that's why he can leave knowing that he can come back. He knows, and that's what matters. He kisses her lips once more and this time she kisses back strongly. Hard. Passionately. Lustfully. Desperately. She clings to his shoulders and he tugs on her hair. 'Sealing the deal', he used to call it. He pulls back and she leans into him, moaning at the loss. His hot breath lingers on her face and she keeps her eyes closed.
"I love you," he repeats.
She nods, as if to say 'I love you too' as she pulls back.
"Open your eyes baby," he whispers.
She does as she's told and a tear trickles down her cheek. He reaches out to wipe it away before running his thumb over her lips. She clears her throat, pulling away from him completely. Any longer and she won't be able to let him leave. He smiles sadly, dropping his hand to his side before bending down to
gather his bag. "I'll owl you."

The second he leaves, she breaks out into uncontrollable sobs. She leans against the doorframe, bending at the waist as she clutches her stomach in pain. Running a hand through her hair, she stumbles down
the hall towards the bathroom. She throws herself onto her knees in front of the toilet just in time for her stomach to turn, emptying what's left of the contents into the toilet bowl. Leaning back against the side of the tub after, pulls her legs to her chest, hugging them close and resting the side of her head on the tops of her knees. In the garbage can, sitting on the top of everything else, she sees it. The take home test. The positive sign. She'd left it out in the open, hoping that he would see it. Hoping that it would change his mind. Either he didn't see it, or he's completely ignoring it. She desperately hopes it isn't the latter...

x

December 23, 1999

Seven months. Seven months to the day he's been gone. Seven months without seeing his face or hearing his voice. Seven months too long. She's watching a movie-the title forgotten-when he walks in. He's covered in snow, his cheeks rosy from the bitter cold and his hair wet from the freshly melted snow. She stares at him, unmoving from her spot on the couch. He places his bag on the floor, pulling a bouquet of purple lilies from behind his back, smiling sheepishly. "Hey."
She pushes herself to her feet, not even bothering to pause the Muggle film playing on the TV and filling the silence as she crosses the room. She takes the flowers, hesitating before pushing them roughly against his chest. "You! You utter arse Draco Malfoy!" she shrieks. She grabs his bag off of the floor and hits him with it. He staggers back and she drops it before pushing him with open hands. "It's been seven months-seven! And you say 'hey'? That's all you have to say? No owl, no call-you didn't even tell me you were leaving! Who the fuck do you think you are! What the fuck is wrong with you Draco Malfoy?" She's breathing heavily now, choking on sobs as she struggles to control it. Only when he grabs her by the back of the head and pulls her flush against him, does she realize that she's crying. Again.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he whispers into her hair.
She clings to him tightly, burying her face into the crook of his neck. Her hot, salty tears soaking the hem of his t-shirt. He picks her up, bridal style, and carries her down the hall to her room-their room. His bag and her movie are forgotten. "I hate you…"
"I love you too." He laughs softly at his own joke, laying her down on the bed before climbing over her carefully onto his side of the bed.
"Don't," she murmurs. She pulls away, glaring up at him as she pushes on his chest, pushing him off of her. "Don't joke right now."
"Sorry-"
"What the hell was that?" she asks, the vicious anger having melted away. "What...why-"

"I'll explain later," he whispers.
"Drac-"
"Can-can I just hold you right now?" He pleads softly, looking desperately into her eyes. "I swear, I'll tell you everything later, I just...I just need you."
She nods softly, lying back on the bed and he wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her against him as he curls himself around her, spooning her.

x

Therapy, he had called it. A way to deal with the aftermath of the war. A way to cope with the fact that his life was in shambles around him. He needed to 'get away for a while', to isolate himself from the very world trying to shut him out. And in a way she understood. At least, she remembers understanding; it's a little bit more difficult now. But she understood, being the 'brilliant witch' that she was. She was able to look at things from his point of view, to separate herself from the situation. She understood that his place in the war had left him despised by most of the Order survivors, despite coming to them for help and to help them in return; old habits die hard you see, and mostly everybody had a hard time looking past the Dark Mark on his left forearm. She understood that his father was thrown in jail and that his mother had lost her mind and that there was far too much pressure on his shoulders to right his own wrongs, let alone the entire Malfoy families. She understood that he had seen and done things far worse than even she could imagine and that the nightmares he had nearly every night, kept him nervous and fearful at all times.

What she didn't understand was why he couldn't tell her. She couldn't understand why couldn't talk to her; he says it's something he has to face on his own. She couldn't understand why they couldn't face everything together, just like everybody else. They'd all gone through the same things during the war. They'd all seen death, they'd all barely survived it. She couldn't understand why he was hanging on by a thread and everyone else was moving on. And then all of a sudden it had all made sense…

x

September 14, 2000

Azkaban. She's never been to Azkaban before. And she never wants to come back. Once this is all over, she's never going to come back. It's execution day at Azkaban. The prisoner being Lucius Malfoy, sentenced to receive the Kiss by one hundred Dementors.

Everybody who is anybody is in attendance, waiting patiently for it to begin. Mostly everybody anyway. There is one person (two including herself, but she won't) just waiting for it to be over. She looks sideways at her boyfriend, sitting quietly and reluctantly in the seat next to her. They're in the front row; the front row is for family and friends only. The front row consists of just the two of them. His blond hair is messy, falling in front of his eyes; just the way she likes it, just the way Lucius hates it. His eyes are dark and hazy; she can't read the emotions in them, but then she isn't sure she wants to. His back is straight and his shoulders are square, showing off his good posture but the way he bows his head shows that he doesn't want to be there. His hands are clenched tightly in his lap causing his knuckles to turn a white pasty colour. And his left leg hasn't stopped bobbing anxiously.
He hadn't wanted to come. She'd forced him to however, because despite the man's actions and beliefs, Lucius Malfoy is still his father. And he can't ignore that. Now, however, she's regretting it. To outsiders and onlookers, he may look nervous, scared, anxious. But she knows better. He isn't nervous or scared or anxious. He's angry. And hateful. He hates his father, a part of her had always known that. He hates him with a passion she'd never seen before and until now, she hadn't realized just how much.
She reaches her left hand into his lap, seeking his and his fingers instinctively thread between hers. He looks sideways at her and she smiles weakly, setting her chin on his shoulder, her face just millimeters away from his.
"Really shouldn't have come…" he mumbles.
"I'm sorry, we can leave if you want?" she suggests; perhaps this is just too much for him to handle.
"Nah, we're here now."
She nods, leaning closer until he captures her lips in his in a chaste kiss, before pulling back and pressing her forehead against his.
A bell is rung somewhere within the cold, dark room and a curtain surrounding the exact middle of the room, incased in glass, lifts. The prisoner in question, wearing a black and white jumpsuit, his blond hair limp and dirty around his shoulders, is chained to a chair in the very middle of the room. His grey eyes are much like his sons, dark and hazy. Unreadable.
She pulls away from her boyfriend then and his hand tightens around hers. She glances between father and son; they're staring at each other. Emotionless. She continues to watch him, almost hesitantly, afraid to move.
And then it happens. The dementors are let loose and they waste no time in swooping in on their victim. Lucius groans. She flinches. Draco doesn't even react, he just stares straight ahead. She whimpers, burying her face into his shoulders. She's faced death, seen it, witnessed it and stared it straight in the face more than a few times during the war, and yet watching this-a soul being sucked out of someone's body, even if it is a Death Eater...she can't. And then just as quickly as it began, it comes to an end.
Everything goes quiet. The dementors are banished away. And everybody around them just stares at the lifeless body of Lucius Malfoy. The first person to move is Draco. He stands rather quickly, forcing her to let go of his arm before rushing out the door. She glances around the room quickly at the familiar faces she can't be bothered to place before following him. He's pacing in the hallway, breathing heavily and pulling at the collar of his shirt as though he's running out of air. Instinctively, she reaches for him. Instinctively, he shrugs her off.
"Don't!"
"Draco-"
"Just don't...touch me."
"Dra-"
"Please, Hermione, don't…"
"Okay," she whispers, nodding her head as she watches him with baited breath. "Okay I won't. Just...I know your upset-"
"I'm not upset." The tone of his voice usually gives away when he's lying. This time he isn't lying. "I'm furious," he growls.
"Okay. And that's fine Draco, but he was sentenced-"
"That's not why I'm furious. I...it's a terrible thing to say, but I'm glad...he's gone. He doesn't deserve to live."
"I don't understand…"
"You wouldn't. You don't know what it was like...around him, growing up. It was awful. For me and my mother... The things he's done Granger…they're unforgivable," he murmurs.

Silence falls over both of them as the other guests begin to pile out of the room. He sighs, rubbing his hands over his face.
"This was his last chance to put it all on the table, to apologize for what he's done. And he wouldn't even do that."

Tentatively, she reaches for him once more and this time he lets her. She wraps her arms around his neck, holding him close and his arms fall instinctively around her waist as he buries his face into the crook of her neck. "Let's go home, okay?"
He nods and with a single POP, they're both gone.

x

It was never just about the war with him. His unhappiness had started long before the war ever did. His hate for his father had begun even before that. She never asked why and he never told her why, so she will never know what really happened to him in the manor leading up to his sixteenth birthday. But she knows that everything he did, he did for his mother. She knows that deep down he was nothing more than a boy trying to save his family.
Now he's nothing more than a man trying to forget his past. Running from it.

Two weeks and three days after his father was Kissed, Draco Malfoy disappeared for the second time.
It seemed to happen on six month intervals. Every six months he would leave and every six months he would come back. Give or take a month or two at times. Hermione Granger can tell you the exact time of the exact day of the exact month. It's been burned to her memory, despite it being one of the many things she wishes she could forget.

X

Despite having a little person growing inside her and having the full support of her family and friends, Hermione feels more alone than ever. She's never alone however, not really. And yet she feels completely and utterly alone. Because they don't understand what it's like. Nobody does.
Except, perhaps, just one person.

She's at Diagon Ally when she sees him, or rather he sees her. She's walking around the bookstore, trying to take her mind off of things when she hears his voice coming from behind her. Blaise Zabini, Draco's very best mate.
"Oi! Granger!"
She turns back around to find him walking towards her. She smiles best she can, but try as she might, it doesn't reach her eyes. "Hey Blaise."
"How are you? You look…" he trails off his eyes scanning her over, widening when they reach her mid-section before snapping back up to her face. "You're pregnant…"
"Yes."
"And it's Draco's?"
"Yes."
"He doesn't know, does he?" the man guesses, and by her silence he has her answer. "Merlin Granger, why not? He deserves to know."
"I deserve my privacy."
"Yeah but if you told him-"
"I don't want that Blaise," she admits, sighing softly. "I want him to stay because he wants to, not because he feels like he has to."
Blaise shakes his head, frowning. "Granger-"
"I have to go, I've got...things to do. I'll see you later." She smiles weakly, patting him on the shoulder as she walks past him, rushing out of the store. She feels as though she can't breathe, like the air is getting thinner and thinner by the second. With a POP she apparates back to her flat.
A few hours later she's watching yet another movie, alone. That's all she seems to be doing lately, watching movies. Or soap operas. There's something just so...relaxing in diving into the fictitious lives of fictitious characters.
The doorbell rings, pulling her back to reality and for a quick second her heart stops. Until she realizes that he doesn't ring the doorbell, not to mention the fact that it's far too early in the year. Pushing herself to her feet, she adjusts her sweatpants on her hips and the t-shirt falling around her waist before walking to the door. She pulls it open, shocked to see Blaise standing in front of her. "Blaise...what are you doing you here? And what are those?" she asks skeptically, eying the bags in his hands.
"They're bags Granger, surely you know what those look like," he jokes. He's met yet again with her silence, the awkward kind at that. "Sorry, bad joke..."
"What's going on?"
"I'm moving in."
"What? Why? What are you talking about?" she asks, confused.
"I'm moving in to help you with the baby-"
"Blaise I'm only three months-"
"Three months, six months, nine months. What's the difference, besides a few pounds here and there?" Blaise wonders casually, sauntering past her into the flat.
"Blaise…"
"Look, Granger, you're gonna need help-"
"I've got help. My parents, Harry, Ginny, Ron-"
"Yeah yeah, that's all fine and dandy but what about when they're not around hmm? In the middle of the night, when you're home alone. I'm Draco's best mate, and I know that if he knew you were doing this alone he'd be pissed. The least I can do is help."
"I dunno Blaise, I mean, it isn't you responsibility-"
"I know. Look, it's fine, okay? Trust me. When Draco comes back-"
"If he comes back," she murmurs, crossing her arms over her chest and casting her gaze towards the floor.
"You know he'll be back," Blaise tells her sternly. "He always comes back. He loves you-"
"I know. I don't doubt that he loves me. I don't doubt that he loves me enough to come back. I just wish he loved me enough not to leave in the first place."

x

Upon hearing the front door open and then close, Hermione freezes solid to her spot in front of the kitchen sink. There's only one person who just walks freely into her house through the front door... She hears soft footsteps on the hardwood floor and she places the cloth she'd used to wash the dishes on the edge of the counter. The footsteps stop and she hears his breath hitch from across the room.
She closes her eyes, afraid to turn around. Afraid that it's just her imagination.
Finally, she turns, he gaze landing on the blond boyfriend she hasn't seen in 5 and a half months. His hair is longer, darker, messier than when she last saw him. He's got blond stubble on his face; a five o'clock shadow. He looks older, making her feel as though she's missed far too much of his life. Her breath stops in her throat and she's fairly certain her heart skips several beats. Brown meet grey, and she nearly melts just by the way he's looking at her. Lovingly. Passionately. Hungrily. Desperately; pleading her for forgiveness. She smiles, the first real smile she's been able to muster in a really long time. She wipes her hands on the apron around her waist before pulling it off and throwing it on the counter behind her. He grins back, dropping his bag on the floor at his feet. She walks towards him quickly, launching herself into his open arms. His arms encircle her waist, holding her tightly to him as her legs wrap around his waist and her arms cling to his neck. She presses her forehead against his and he captures her lips in a soft, tentative kiss.
"I love you," he murmurs.
"Show me," she whispers back.

x

She feels it. A kick. Another. And another. Hermione smiles, really smiles, her hand falling over her swollen stomach. "Blaise! Blaise hurry!" Hermione shouts across the room.
Within seconds the wizard runs into the room, panting as he comes to a stop in front of her. "What? What's wrong-what happened?" he asks frantically, holding his wand at the ready.
"The baby's kicking! Come feel it!"
He smiles nervously, and she realizes that it's the first time she's ever seen him as anything except cocky. "A-are you sure?" he stutters.
"Yes, hurry!" She grabs his hand, pulling him forward so that he's sitting on the bed beside her and places his hand on her bare stomach. This time they both feel it.
"Merlins pants!" the wizard exclaims. "That-that can't be normal! Is that normal?"
"It more than normal," she giggles.
"That...that's weird. That is way too weird Granger," Blaise mutters, pulling his hand away.
"Oh don't be such a baby, I've already got one of those."
"'Don't be such a baby'-shut it Granger."
She rolls her eyes, climbing out of bed carefully. She can feel his eyes on her as she walks to the tall mirror beside her closet and she knows he's inspecting her. Judging her happiness level by her body language.
He's like a big brother to her; like Harry and Ron. Just as big and just as protective. He hardly ever let's her out of his sight these days and he's always watching her, analyzing her. "I think he would've loved it."
"What?"
"That, there...the kicking. He'd be ecstatic," he says softly.
"Yeah...I think so too."

x

"At least two."
They've been lying in bed for hours. They've hardly moved from the comfortable confines of the four poster bed, and one another's arms. It's what he calls their 'monthly lazy day'. At least one Saturday a month, at least, they spend all day in bed, only leaving to eat and/or use the bathroom. She shifts within his arms, looking up at him curiously.
"At least two what?" she asks softly.
"Children."
She blinks, pulling back slightly. "You've been thinking about children?"
"Well...yeah...haven't you?"
"Yeah, of course, I just...didn't think.. Why two?" she asks, changing the subject slightly.
"How many do you want?" he responds.
"I haven't really decided," she admits.
"Being an only child can be really lonely sometimes. I don't want that for our kid…" he whispers.
"Me either."
"So what do you think? Two, three…" he asks after a small pause.
"Seven," she replies, sounding serious.
"Seven? What do I look like, a Weasley?" he jokes.
"You look like a man who knows how to produce," she gushes, grinning up at him innocently.
"Well, I do, but that's not the point."
She pouts playfully, rolling over so that she's straddling his waist. "What ever happened to 'I'll give you anything your little heart desires, Love'?" she wonders, mocking him playfully.
"Now first of all, I don't talk like that," he points out, pulling her down so that her chest is flush against him.
"And second?"
"I'd give you the world if you asked me to," he whispers truthfully, seriously.
"So you'll give me seven children?" she asks hopefully.
"I'll do you one better, I'll give you eight," he grins.
"Wonderful," she grins. She closes what is left of the gap between them, her lips crashing passionately into his. "I really only want 2 or 3 though," she admits softly.
He smirks, shaking his head. "Too late, no take backs. We're gonna have a Weasley sized Malfoy family."

x

When she wakes up, she's got that feeling. The feeling in the pit of her stomach that tells her that today is no ordinary day; that it will be THAT day. The feeling she's gotten every day he's ever come back.
Ginny says it's their connection. That it's fate. Hermione isn't sure what to believe. And she's tried so hard not to care, so hard not to think about it. So hard. And with Blaise's help, she's been that much closer to succeeding. But today is different. Today she knows it's different. She spends all day trying not think about it, trying not to get her hopes up. She does everything she can to keep herself occupied. Including making Blaise come home from work to watch a movie with her. Still new to whole 'Muggle film' concept, he spends nearly half of the movie trying to figure out how the 'bloody box' works. She's since given up on explaining it to him, instead letting him figure it out on his own.
"If it's not magic, then what is it!" Blaise yells in frustration.
"I've told you a hundred times Blaise, it's electricity."
"But where does the electricity come from?"
The witch groans loudly, shaking her head. "Merlin's pants Blaise, if you don't stop talking so help me-"
"Okay, alright, I'll stop," he says, wanting to avoid the pregnant woman's wrath.
"Thank you."
"Merlin forbid I ask a few questions-"
"Blaise!" Hermione snaps, glaring sideways at him.
"Okay! Don't have a horse, Granger," he mutters under his breath.
"First of all it's 'don't have a cow'. And second, shut up."
Silence falls over them both as she continues to watch the movie, while Blaise just stares in awe. "You know, your hormones can be quite mean sometimes."
She rolls her eyes, resting her right hand on the top of her stomach. The baby kicks then, like he or she can feel her and Hermione grins widely. "It's kicking. Blaise she's kicking again!" she exclaims with excitement.
The Slytherin grins, reaching over to place his palm on her stomac, without any hesitation. His mouth opens in bewilderment. "I hope by she, you mean he," he teases.
"She."
"He."
"She."
Blaise goes to protest but he's interrupted as the baby kicks yet again. "..I will never get used to this…"
"Sure you will. One day you'll have a pregnant girlfriend of your own," she smiles.
"No I won't. Once is enough-the hormones, the cravings. I can't deal with this all over again," he responds, shaking his head as he smiles back.
"Liar. You love it."
"Yeah, I do," he admits. He starts to tickle her and she squeals, shifting on the couch in attempt to get away. But he's faster, and stronger, and instead he pins her to the couch. In all of the madness, neither of them hear the living room door open and close. Nor do they hear the sound of a bag hitting the floor, or the presence of another person in the room.

Draco looks upon the sight before him. His breath hitches in his throat and anger and jealousy and confusion bubbles inside him. His best friend. And his girlfriend. Together on the couch-their couch. He clenches his fist at his sides and clears his throat loudly.

Both couch occupants freeze. Hermione cranes her neck around the arm holding Blaise's weight above her and her eyes widen in shock. Blaise turns his head to the side and smiles. "Hey mate."
"Draco…" Hermione whispers, a number of emotions washing over her.
"Having fun?" the blonde asks, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
"We were just...watching a movie," Hermione replies.
"Yeah, I see that."
They disentangle themselves and Hermione pulls the blanket hanging over the couch around her, more for comfort than anything.
"So, how've you been?" Blaise asks as he settles back into his previous position.
"Fine. I'd ask you the same thing, but I think I can guess."
His best mate smirks. "Oh I doubt that mate."
"Alright, what's going on?" Draco demands, crossing his arms over his chest as he glares at the two people in front of him.
"Nothing's going on," h=the brunette tells him softly. She can hear the jealousy in his voice.
"Don't lie to me."
"I'm just gonna...go find something to do," Blaise says slowly, pushing himself to his feet awkwardly.
"Then go," the blonde snaps.
Blaise nods, glancing quickly at Hermione and giving her a look of approval before disappearing into the kitchen.
"Are you okay?" Hermione asks from her position on the couch. He looks tired and sore.
"I dunno, you tell me. I thought you'd be happy to see me," he replies, cursing himself for allowing the disappointment he feels inside to show.
"I am-"
"Could've fooled me. What the hell is he doing here anyway? Does he live here?"
Hermione knows immediately where he's headed with this conversation. She sighs. "Draco you don't understand-"
"So then make me understand! Have you moved on, is that it? I mean I know what you told me, but my best friend Granger? Really?" He snaps, angrily. Bitterly.
"That-that's nothing-"
"It didn't look like nothing! What the hell is going on Hermione?"
"I'm pregnant!" she shouts. The room falls silent as he stares back at her. Shocked. Hurt. Angry.
"What?"
"I'm pregnant…" she whispers, standing up slowly, revealing to him her swollen stomach. "This isn't how I wanted you to find out…" she trails off, watching his face fall.
"What, that he knocked you up?" he snorts.
"No! That you're a father. You're the father Draco, I'm 8 months pregnant," she explains.
"Eight months…" he trails off, looking thoughtful as he does the math in his head. "You were pregnant when I left."
She nods sheepishly, looking down at her swollen ankles. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, i just didn't want you think I was trying to trap you or-" she pauses when she looks back up to see starting to leave-"where are you going?"
"I need some air," he mutters.
"Draco-"
She's cut short by the sound of the door slamming shut behind him. Within seconds, Blaise is back in the living room, consoling her shaking, sobbing form.
"I hate him so much…" she sobs into the wizards neck.
"We both know that's a lie."

X

Draco Malfoy can't believe it. He can't believe he had been so dense, so mean. He can't believe he accused his girlfriend of cheating on him, with his best friend no less. Sure, she had told him that she might not be waiting for him when he came back. And he had been afraid, for a while, that she wouldn't be. Until his senses kicked in of course, because she needs him just as much as he needs her. And yet when he saw them on the couch together, in such a compromising position, with Blaise between her legs, all of his logic went out the proverbial window. The fact that he knew Blaise would never trudge on his territory didn't even register in his mind. The fact that he knew without a doubt that Hermione loved him was lost to him. All he saw was red and green; anger and envy and jealousy.
He should've been the one nestled between her thighs, tickling her and making her giggle and squeal in delight. He should've been the one just inches away from her, close enough to kiss and to hold and to love. He should've been the one by her side, step by step with her for her
pregnancy. For his baby.
His baby.

The rumble in his fireplace pulls him out of his thoughts. Looking up he sees an angry, dark Slytherin looking back at him. Blaise never gets angry, at anything.
Draco pushes himself to his feet. "Hey-"
"You're a real prick, you know that!" Blaise shouts, pushing the blonde in the chest.
"Blaise-"
"She's waited for you! She's waited and waited and waited-for years! She's waited for you to stop leaving and every time you do, she waits for you to come back. And this is how you treat her?"
"Blaise-"
"And me! You actually thought that I would swoop in on your girl? Do you know me at all Draco? Do you even know her? Or is your head just so far up your arse that-"
"Shut your trap Zabini! I'm sorry!" Draco yells.
"Sorry for what? For hurting her, or telling me to shut my trap?" Blaise asks rhetorically, crossing his arms over his chest.
Draco sniggers. "Both. Everything."
"She can't keep doing this Draco."
"I know.."
"It's tearing her apart."
"It's tearing us both apart," the blonde admits, pushing his hands through his shaggy hair.
"You have a baby to think about now too. I offered to help her until you came back. And now you're back...so what's it gonna be?"
:I'm gonna marry her," Draco whispers without even a moment of hesitation, : And I'm gonna be a better father than mine."

X

The following day, when he's sure that she's had enough time to calm down enough for him to speak with her rationally, Draco goes back to their flat. Blaise lets him in, and he waits for her in the living room while she finishes up in the shower. She comes out wearing sweatpants and tank top, her hair still damp from the showerhead. He pushes himself to his feet, shoving his hands into his pockets nervously. "Hey…"
"You...you spoiled, inconsiderate, selfish bastard! I can't believe you have the nerve to show up here right now!" she yells loudly, looking at him incredulously.
"Listen, I know I was out of line yesterday-"
"Out of line? You were far worse than out of line Malfoy, you weren't even on the same bloody page!"
"Hermione, this isn't good for the baby," Blaise tries to intervene, his soft and worrisome.
"Shut it Blaise," she snaps, folding her arms over her chest the same way she always does.
"Love, he's right-"
"Don't 'love' me, and don't tell me what to do!"
"I gonna just...go."
That being said, Blaise leaves the couple alone in the living room. IT's a small-ish room, and they're really only a few feet apart, but to Draco it feels like a Quidditch field. "Hermione-"
"Don't," she whispers, closing her eyes and shaking her head. "Don't stand there and act like you did nothing wrong, like you don't KNOW. Don't you dare."
Silence falls over them. He nods, watching her carefully. She sighs, sitting down on the couch to give her legs a break, her head in her hands. He wants nothing more than to envelope her in his arms and never let go.
"Five years Draco. Five years we've been running around in this circle, making the same mistakes and doing the same things over and over again. You leave, I wait, you come back and then we do it all over again. I can't do it anymore. I won't," she decides, looking up at him through wet eyelashes as tears gather in her eyes. "I don't want to have to lie in bed wondering what you're doing or where you're staying or whether you're sleeping with somebody else-
His eyes widen, surprised. "I would never-"
"I don't want to have to question your loyalty and my love for you. And I most certainly won't bring up my baby this way. It's not gonna happen."
"Okay," he whispers, nodding his approval.
"So choose. It's either us, or it's whatever is holding you back…" She's met with silence, and she has to wonder if this is worse than a rejection. "You can't even make a decision can you? Fine, I'll make one for you. Get out," she demands.
"Hermione-"
"Just leave!" she shouts, hot and angry tears of despair running down her cheeks. "You're good at that, you might as well just leave and never come back. I don't need you and your negative energy. Leaving is what you do best, so go ahead. I'm giving the freedom you've wanted for the last five years. Now you don't have to bother feeling obliged to come back," she hisses.
He blinks, taken aback for a moment as he gathers his thoughts. "Is that what you think?"
"What else am I to think Draco…"
"Nothing. Not anymore," he replies confidently, a hint of a smile playing on his lips-lips she's missed so very much. Almost as much as she's missed the man attached to them.
"I don't understand…"
"I'm not leaving. I'm not going, ever again," he responds, sitting next to her on the couch. He takes both of her hands in his, rubbing soft circles against her softer skin. "I'm staying, baby."
"Draco-"
"No, listen, hear me out," he pleads.
"I'd listen to him if I was you 'Mione!" Blaise yells from the kitchen.
"Shut it Blaise!"
"Okay, I'm listening," Hermione breathes.
"I love you," the blonde murmurs affectionately, moving his right hand to cup her cheek. "I love you so, so much. I...it hurts sometimes, and it drives me crazy but I love you anyway. I just...it just happened so fast you know? After the war ended everything went downhill. With my
parents, my mother, my father." He pauses and she notices that this is the first time that he's been able to mention Lucius Malfoy without flinching, or worse. "Hogwarts was my escape. Hogwarts was where I was safe. At Hogwarts nobody judged me, you know? But as soon as school was over and I was thrown into the real world I couldn't hide anymore. I couldn't hide from the way people looked at me, or from the issues with my mother, my father. Everything was everywhere and it was just too much," he admits. "I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to make question this-us. And I was never supposed to leave after that first time. I just...it was like I couldn't breathe. Like the entire world was caving in on me and I couldn't take it. It had nothing to do with you, it was never about you. It was always about me and I didn't want to bring you down with me. I needed to try and find myself, to reinvent who I was. Because who I had been isn't who I wanted to be. I was just like my father-"
"You weren't like your father. You were never like Lucius," she whispers.
"But I was," he argues. "Every thought I had was his thought-his voice."
"And now?"
"Now? Now my thoughts belong to me," he says softly, smiling at her. Really smiling. "Now my actions are my own. Now I'm my own person. Now I can love you properly, and I can marry you and we can raise OUR baby together. Forever."
Tears of joy and happiness have now gathered in her eyes. "I...wait, go back.. Marry me?"
Draco smirks, shrugging his shoulders. "Well, seeing as how you asked, why not?"
"Draco!"
He grins, pulling a ring out of his pocket before he lowers himself onto one knee. She gasps, covering her mouth with shaky hands as he looks up at her. "Marry me Hermione Granger. Become my wife."

Let me stay.