Hiya folks,

Soo, another story. I wrote this a few weeks ago and have no idea where the idea came from. It's been done before, I'm sure, but I thought it was a nice idea. I have a bunch of Dramione oneshots, which I would like to post sometime in the near future and I've been humming and hawing about what I should do with them – whether I should post them as individual stories or post them as "chapters" under one name… Thoughts?

Anyhow, hope you enjoy this one. Leave a review or two :)

Stumbling Finer Lines

There's a fine line between love and hate. But there's an even finer line between friendship and romance.

X

If someone had told her, Hermione Granger, four months ago that she'd be friends with a certain blond-haired ferret, she reckons she'd have laughed in their face. Hell if someone – anyone – had told her that she's even so much as give him a chance to be her friend, she'd have had them sent to St. Mungo's.
And yet, here she is helping an extremely wasted Draco Malfoy back into his flat. She struggles to hold his much larger and heavier body upright as she guides him through the living room. He loses his footing on the large rug underneath the coffee table and she finds herself falling onto the floor with a loud, painful thud beside him.

She groans, rolling onto her back before sitting up to look at him. Her gaze lands on his long, lean form lying comfortably on the floor, staring peacefully up at the ceiling. Instead of berating him like she had originally planned, she pulls her knees up to her chest, folds her arms over the tops of her knees and rests her chin on her arms. She watches him silently.

Four months ago he approached her in the Ministry boardroom and requested a truce. The truce, in turn, had developed into a semi-awkward but all around natural sort of friendship. They bicker and they banter, with a few playful insults thrown about every once in a while – because it is them, and how can they be themwithout it? But they also joke around, and laugh – and every now and then (like when he's drunk or when he's feeling particularly moody) they talk.

Three weeks into their weird sort of friendship, he'd invited her and her friends – while making it abundantly clear that her friends didn't haveto come - for drinks. That was the first night she had ever witnessed a drunk Draco Malfoy and that was also the first – and only – time he's ever told her that he's sorry for anything and everything he put her through.

After that, the rest of their friendship had just sort of...fell into place. Somehow, the two of them – Draco and Hermione, Malfoy and Granger – just sort of...made sense.

And over the course of the last four months she's learned that nobody – nobody she knows anyway – is more, well, complicated than Draco Malfoy. Some days are an absolute nightmare to know him – because he's harsh, demanding, moody, arrogant, ignorant, rude and sometimes downright mean. And then there are other days – most days – where he's almost the complete opposite. Where he's fun and funny and easygoing and thoughtful.

Needless to say, being friends with Draco Malfoy is like riding a roller coaster at a theme park. Funny thing is: she's always liked theme parks.

His voice, sounding tired and thoughtful – almost dream-like – pulls her out of her thoughts. "I like you, Granger."

She looks at him, shocked for a moment. He's never – not even once – expressed any sort of...feeling towards her. Instead, he chooses to show his feeling through actions – like barging into her flat unannounced when he's bored and wants her company, or slipping into the women's washroom at work with her because he needs her advice, or breaking into her bedroom late at night when he can't sleep.

"What do you mean?" she asks curiously.

"I mean, I like you," he replies simply, shrugging his shoulders as he cranes his neck to peak up at her through half-lidded eyes. "You're alright. You're better than alright, actually, you're...you. And I quite like you."

She smiles softly, rolling her eyes as he grins drunkenly up at her. She likes this side of him. The side of him that tells her things in confidence but doesn't tell her it's in confidence because he knows she knows. The side of him that shows his vulnerability, if only for a moment. The side of him that can be wild and crazy and over-the-top one minute and then completely down-to-earth the next. He's like a breath of fresh air and gust of wind at the same time.

"Can I tell you something?"

"Anything," she whispers.

"I always wondered what it be like to be your friend," he admits. And beneath the glassiness in his bright grey eyes she sees pure, unadulterated truth. Trust. Happiness.

"And? Is it everything you thought it would be?" she teases.

"Better," he slurs, laying his head back against the soft carpet as he closes his eyes.

And then he begins to snore and Hermione stifles a laugh as she lays back on the carpet next to him.

They're still getting to know each other. And she likes every minute of it.

X

Hermione recognizes the look in his eyes when he looks at her. The interest. The wonder. The bemusement. It's the same look he gets when a witch at work walks by and captures his attention. The very same look he gets when a girl at the bar catches his eye.

Something in her chest tightens at the realization that he is interested in her. Her cousin. Who he only met just five minutes ago when she'd burst through front door to the coffee shop, interrupting their coffee date – not that it's actually a date. Because if it was a date he'd be looking at her the way he's been looking at her.

"So anyway, I kicked him out. Who needs boys, right Mini?" Melissa Granger says, leaning comfortably in the chair across from her.

Draco smirks, leaning forward with his arms crossed over the edge of the table. "Mini?" he snorts.

"She couldn't say 'Mione when we were kids," Hermione mutters, twirling her spoon around her tea cup.

"Cute," he replies, holding his gaze on her cousin.

"Anyway, I'm so over Jordan-what's-his-face. I mean, honestly, men are nothing but trouble. Maybe I'll become a lesbian."

Hermione's eyes widen in shock. "Melissa-"

"That's hot," Draco drawls. "Although, I have to disagree with you. Women are definitely more trouble."

"Oh? How's that?" the blond Granger asks, tilting her head to the side. It's her signature flirt move.

"Hmm, let's see," he replies, looking thoughtful for a moment. "Women are crazy."

Melissa snorts. "That's kind of true."

And just like that, her friend and her cousin fall into a bickery-bantery-flirty conversation, leaving her to feel like a third wheel. Hours later, when he's practically gushingabout the beautiful enigma that is her cousin, she recognizes the little tightness in her chest.

She's jealous.

X

For a minute, when she sees him standing at her front door, she thinks that maybe he's changed his mind. Maybe he doesn't like Melissa as much as he thought he did – otherwise, why would he come to see her after his date? And then she sees the lazy, lopsided grin on his face as he saunters into her living room.

She closes the door behind him, tugging on her sleeves uncomfortably. "How'd it go with Melissa?"

"Brilliant," he grins, flopping down on the couch with his hands behind his hands. "Absolutely brilliant."

"You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say she has you under some sort of spell," Hermione mutters.

"It's great, isn't it? I've never felt like this before, Mini," he gushes, resting his head back on the cushion. She winces at the mention of his new favourite nickname. "She's... Merlin, Granger, she's amazing. She's smart and she's beautiful, she has a great sense of humour, she's fun..."

The tight feeling returns to her chest and this time her stomach flips too. "Yeah, she's one of a kind, that's for sure."

"She likes me too, right?" he asks, sounding hopeful. "I mean, you've talked to her?"

"Yeah. Yeah, she adores you."

He grins. "I think I'm in love with her, Granger."

For a moment she thinks the world stops. Her gaze snaps across the room at him, her throat closes, her breath hitches and her stomach clenches into a million tiny little knots. Her entire body goes numb as she stands rigid in her own living room.

She couldn't have heard him correctly, right? Surely he didn't just say what she thinks he said, right? He can't be in love with her cousin, they only just met! Sure, they've been hanging out – and sort of dating – now for almost two months. Sure, he might like her, maybe even lust after her – because she's beautiful and sexy. But love? He couldn't love her.

He seems to lose himself in his thoughts, and so she leaves him alone in her living room to hide in her bed room.

She wants to cry and scream and hex him into oblivion. She wouldn't, of course, because it isn't even his fault. But it doesn't stop the tears from slipping down her cheek. It doesn't stop that painfully tight feeling in her chest – like her heart in breaking off slowly into a million tiny pieces. It doesn't stop her stomach from doing flips, threatening to let loose everything she's eaten in the last 24 hours, at the mere thought of him with her cousin.

And her cousin, of all people.

X

The Draco Malfoy she sees standing in front of her, leaning back against her doorframe as though his legs are about to give way, is not the same person she saw just yesterday. She frowns, looking across her office at the man before her to take in his appearance. He's wearing his old converse shoes instead of his dress shoes, his trousers look like they hadn't been pressed this morning, the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to his elbows, his collar – and the first three buttons – are undone, his tie is loose around his neck, his hair – while always messy and unruly – is, perhaps, even more so, his eyes are puffy, his lips are chapped and -

-he looks lost. Confused. Sad.

Defeated.

"She left me," he mutters, his voice hoarse with the pained emotion he's trying to hold back. She's never heard him sound so...broken. "I asked her to marry me – on my fucking knees – and she left me. Who does that? Who the fuck-" he cuts himself off, pressing the balls of his hands to his eyes before pushing his fingers through his hair as he falls into the empty chair across her desk.

Her chest tightens, seeing him like this.

"Did she say anything to you? Where I went wrong, or...if she was planning to leave me?"

Her eyes widen in shock. "Wha-no! If she did, I would've told you, Draco. I had no idea..."

"Right – no, yeah. I know - I just...fuck," he mutters, slouching down in the chair.

Hermione sighs, pushing herself go her feet before walking around her desk to lean against the side facing him. She pokes his foot with hers, capturing his attention. "What did she say?"

He snorts bitterly. "Nothing, really. Just that she couldn't marry me – right now – and that she needed some space. Apparently I'm 'too much' for her at this point in her life."

She frowns sadly, leaning forward to place her hand on his shoulder. "Look, Draco, it's nothing against you."

"How would youknow? You barely even speak to her."

"That's because Melissa's...special. We don't exactly see eye-to-eye on things. She's more of the free-spirit type, you know? She likes freedom and excitement and..."

"Not me."

"N-no, no, she likes you," she says softly. As much as she wants to tell him he's better off without her– and more importantly better off with her – she can't. "She loves you. Maybe she just isn't ready."

He nods, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He tilts his head, looking at her thoughtfully. "We should go out for drinks later. Get wasted. You and me."

She smiles, rolling her eyes. "Sure you're up for that?"

"Think I'm entitled to that," he smirks, pushing himself to his feet. "I'll see you after work. Five?"

"Yeah."

He nods, winking playfully as he pulls open her office door. The sadness, however still lingers in his cloudy eyes.

"Hey, Draco?"

"Hmm?"

"I would've said yes."

He smirks, cocking his head to the side. "And that's why I love you, Granger."

X

He's been avoiding her for days now. In fact, today is the first time he's even acknowledged her since the Christmas Eve they spent with her parents. More specifically, since he kissed her underneath the mistletoe at her front door.

She notices him from across the ballroom, amongst hundreds of other Ministry witches and wizards. He smiles at her, flashing his pearly whites at her. She smiles back softly, despite the voice in her head telling her to ignore him. All too soon he's making his way towards her.

"Hey," he breathes when he reaches her. He rubs the back of his neck nervously.

"Hey."

"So, I'm sorry about the last few days. I just – I didn't...I dunno what to say, Granger."

"Just say it how it is," she replies, shrugging her shoulders before crossing her arms over her chest. "You spent Christmas Eve with my family. You kissed me under the mistletoe. You ran away. And you haven't spoken to me since."

"Okay, yeah, it sounds bad when you say it like that," he mutters, shifting from foot to foot awkwardly.

"It sounds bad regardless, Draco."

"I know," he sighs, looking at her guiltily. "Just...I'm sorry."

As if on cue the countdown starts and nearly every witch and wizard in the room begins shouting out numbers.

30...29...28...

"You know what they say right? About midnight on New Year's?" he asks softly.

24...23...22...

"Yes," she whispers.

18...17...16...

"I could kiss anybody in this room," he drawls, pretending to look around.

12...11...10...

"Well, have at it then," she mutters, turning to walk away.

8...

"Granger."

7...

"Granger."

6...

"Hermione Granger."

5...

"What?"

4...

She spins round to face him, colliding with his solid chest before his lips – so soft and warm and delicious – descend down onto hers.

X

"She came back."

She blinks, uncertain as to whether she's just heard him correctly. Though the look on his face says she did. "Oh," she whispers.

"She said it was all a mistake," he whispers, lingering awkwardly in her front door. "Said she was just scared and insecure and needed time to herself."

Hermione raises her eyebrows in disbelief, staring at him with wide eyes. She isn't sure whether she should laugh or cry or throw something at him, so she chooses not to do anything. She just stares at him, feeling numb. The look in his eyes - one of guilt - tells her what he's going to say before he says it.

"She wants to marry me," he murmurs, his gaze stuck on her.

Although she should've been, she isn't prepared for the way her eyes fill with tears or the way her heart breaks in two or the way her stomach flips around and ties itself into sickening knots. Still, she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, just barely managing a calm: "Congratulations then."

She looks away then, wrapping her arms around her middle as she ignores the heat of his gaze. He's watching her every move – probably to make sure she doesn't hit him. And she so desperately wants to hit him. To scream at him. To scold him for playing with her emotions and making her fall when he never had the intention to catch her. She knows that last part isn't fair – because she had fallen for him months before he had fallen for her cousin – but still, he should've known better. He should've stopped her.

He moves towards her and reaches his arm out to her but she's faster, moving away from him before turning her stony gaze on him. "You should go. I'm sure she's just dying to start planning the wedding," she says sarcastically.

He opens his mouth to protest before thinking better of it and turning to leave.

X

"Why are you mad at me?" he asks her, staring across the lunch table at her. Despite continuing to have lunch together every day at work and despite his casual attempts at putting things back the way they were, she's barely spoke two words to him in the last seven days.

She knows he's only trying to save their friendship, but she's honestly beginning to wonder if there's even anything worth saving. Everything is just so...different now. It couldn't possibly go back to way it was.

"I'm not," she replies curtly.

"Yes you are. I know you. I know when you're pissed at me," he tells her, smirking smugly.

She glares at him. "Fine. I am."

"Why?"

She rolls her eyes, picking up half empty tray of food as she pushes herself to her feet. "You're brilliant. You can figure it out," she snaps, before spinning around on her heel and leaving him eat the rest of his lunch alone.

X

Three days later she walks into her office to find him waiting for her. It would've been the most casual thing in the world – months ago. She pauses in her doorway, looking across the room at him skeptically.
He holds out his hand, presenting her with a coffee cup from her favourite shop. "I finished mine, but I kept yours warm."

"Thanks," she mutters, hanging her jacket on the hook behind her door. She walks across the room and takes the cup, looking at him expectantly. He doesn't even move to stand up. "Anything else?"

"You don't want me to marry her."

She takes a deep breath, turning away from him. "It doesn't matter what I want."

He blinks, pushing himself to his feet. "But you don't..."

"No. I mean yes. I mean...no, I don't want you to marry her," she says finally, sighing deeply.

Within seconds he's standing in front of her, so close that she can smell his cologne. "Why not?"

"You know why."

"Say it," he whispers, his breath fanning over her face.

"No."

He cups her face in his hands, then, forcing her to look at him. "Say it, Granger. Tell me why."

"I can't," she whispers back. Part of her wants to run away from his touch while the other wants to melt into it. Instead she stands there, frozen in place. "I don't want you to marry her, but she's still my cousin. I can't do that to her."

He nods, closing his eyes as he leans forward and presses his forehead against hers. He takes a breath, as though breathing in her scent. "I don't think she knows how truly lucky she is to have you in her life," he whispers. And then he pulls back, pressing his lips to her forehead in a tantalizingly sweet kiss. "I don't think either of us do."

X

He's supposed to be at his stag party and she's supposed to be at Melissa's hen party. Instead she's standing in his flat, confused and weary and – quite frankly – she just wants to go home. "Honestly, Draco, I'm supposed to meet Melissa downtown in a few minutes. What's so bloody important that you would-" she cuts herself, mid-complain, as she takes in his appearance. Sweat pants and an old T-shirt. "Shouldn't you be going to you party?"

"I broke it off," he replies casually, leaning against his kitchen counter.

"What? Why?" She wonders, confused.

He shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest. "She isn't nearly as heartbroken as she probably should be, so it was probably long overdue."

She blinks, swallowing the lump forming in her throat. That explains why Melissa hasn't called her yet, whining and complaining hysterically. "Why?" she repeats, still unsure as to why he would do such a thing.

He smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "There was just this little voice in the back of my head that kept telling me she didn't want me to marry her," he says softly.

The fact that it was her voice is not lost on her. "Oh..." she whispers, the blush rising in her cheeks.

"I find the possibility of breaking your heart far more terrifying. Besides, I couldn't have you being mad at me for the rest of my life," he teases.

Hermione laughs awkwardly, rolling her eyes. "Does she know?"

"I didn't have to tell her, seeing as she already knew. Said something about knowing I was in love with you the moment she met me."

She blinks. "Have you been?"

He nods. "I just didn't know it then."

"But you chose her."

He smiles softly, shaking his head at her. "I courted her because she was new and she was beautiful and she was fun and...she reminded me so much of you. You know, without all the 'free-spiritness' and the 'insecurities'." He pauses, walking across the kitchen to stand in from of her and cup her face in his hands. "I chose you."

Fin!