Fic: Seville (Hermione/Draco)
Title: Seville
Pairing: Draco/Hermione
Summary: Hermione thinks of possibilities during a walk on the streets of Seville
Rating: Any Age
Word Count: 1150
For shored inspired by her beautiful art
The colors were beautiful. During the last two years, Hermione had almost forgotten color. It seemed that there was only night with an occasional flash of green, yellow, or orange as curses lit the sky. She knew red, blood spilled on the ground and on her hands, and still saw it wherever she looked the majority of the time. Sunlight was a luxury during the last days, months, years, of the war. It had been over three months since she’d felt the warmth of the sun rays kiss her face.
There was a tension in her body as stood on the open street during the middle of the afternoon. Her gaze immediately found every hazardous area around her, sharp and alert as she continued to look for the enemy, hidden and ready to strike. She couldn’t be distracted by the vibrant colors of the flowers or the variety of clothing the Muggles were wearing. To relax for even a moment could mean death. It was a lesson she had, unfortunately, learned during the years of war as she watched friends and acquaintances fall in a flash of green for hesitating even briefly.
“It’s over, Granger.”
“It’s never truly over, Malfoy.”
Malfoy stopped walking and simply looked at her. “Do you plan to look for evil in the shadows for the rest of your life or am I just fortunate enough to be a witness to your breakdown?”
“Bastard,” she muttered as she met his gaze and shrugged, the action making her wince in pain. “How can you not look?”
“I’m not going to live my life in fear,” he informed her firmly. “We won that bloody war. People died on both sides. Now that it’s over, I’m not going to hide away like some coward.”
“It’s not that easy for me,” she admitted with a wry smile, her gaze narrowing as she noticed black from the corner of her eye. She relaxed only when she saw it was a woman wearing a long black coat and not a renegade Death Eater come to finish what so many had tried to start.
“Do I need to owl Potter?” Malfoy asked with an arched brow and smug smile, deliberately taunting her in a way he had perfected over the years. “Dear Potty, your Muggleborn is freaking out. Send money.”
“I’m not freaking out,” she said as she glared at him. “There’s just so much color and it doesn’t feel like it’s really over. Bugger off if you don’t like it. I don’t remember asking you to come with me, you know?”
“Of course you did,” he told her. “You gave me that look when you mentioned being released from St. Mungos and taking a short to holiday to finish recovering.”
“What look?” she queried as she ran her hand through her hair and frowned.
“The one that said ‘Malfoy, please come with me so I can confess my undying devotion and adoration for the perfection that is you’,” he quipped with a slight smirk. At her look, he sighed. “Fine. I was bored and pestering you has become a habit. Besides, the war has only been over for a few weeks and you shouldn’t be traveling alone until the rest of them are found and sent to Azkaban or, better yet, killed.”
“Oh, so I’m to relax and stop being paranoid yet the reason you’re here is to, what, baby sit me?”
“You don’t need a babysitter, Granger. You can take care of yourself better than most,” he reluctantly admitted. He looked away from her and made a face. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go and I’ve gotten used to your company so it seemed like a perfect arrangement. However, you’re proving to be just as much of a bossy nag after the war as you were during so I’m starting to think that even Weasley insulting me might have been a better choice.”
“I was a bossy nag before the war, Malfoy,” she pointed out with a hint of a smile. “That’s not changed at all, though I may be even worse now.”
“Why Seville?” he asked as he looked back at her.
“I saw it in a magazine once and loved the colors,” she confessed as she glanced around. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Do you really expect me to answer that?” He snorted and rolled his eyes, brushing his pale hair away from the vivid scar on his jaw.
Hermione reached up and dragged her fingertip over the mark, meeting his gaze as the air around them suddenly seemed to change. “We should head back to the hotel. It’s nearly lunch.”
“We’ll eat out. There are plenty of Muggle cafés,” he decided, his lip curling slightly as he said Muggle. He reached up and took her hand, brushing a light kiss against her palm before he dropped it and stepped away. “You wanted to walk and see colors, after all. The sun feels nice, too. It’s been ages since I’ve enjoyed an afternoon in the sun.”
“Fine,” she relented softly, her mind still whirling from the shift she’d practically felt happen during that charged moment of silence. This was Malfoy. True, they’d worked together a lot during the war and had a comfortable sort of friendship that she depended on nearly as much as hers with Ron and Harry but she’d never thought of him in that way. Well, not very often.
They started to walk down the streets of Seville. He lingered back so he’d not get too far ahead of her and she unconsciously took his hand when it was offered. She walked slowly with a slight limp, a permanent reminder of the war that St. Mungos hadn’t been able to fix, but it didn’t seem nearly as frustrating when she was enjoying a teasing conversation with a man that confused her in ways she didn’t quite understand. She wanted to understand it, she realized as she glanced at him discreetly and wondered if he felt as mixed up as she did at the moment.
With the war over, maybe it was time to move on and stop expecting danger in every shadow. Alert was fine but Malfoy was right; she’d been rather paranoid since the end of the war even while she’d been at the hospital and more so since leaving St. Mungos yesterday. He looked at her and arched a brow, giving her a look that said far more than he’d ever put into words.
Hermione relaxed slightly and smiled as she squeezed his hand gently. She didn’t know what exactly had shifted, though she had suspicions, but knew she’d enjoy figuring it all out in time. After all, they actually had the luxury of time and could think of a future, could explore the possibilities, whatever they may be. For now, though, she’d just enjoy the sunshine, soft conversation, and the beautiful colors of Seville.
The End
Pairing: Draco/Hermione
Summary: Hermione thinks of possibilities during a walk on the streets of Seville
Rating: Any Age
Word Count: 1150
For shored inspired by her beautiful art
The colors were beautiful. During the last two years, Hermione had almost forgotten color. It seemed that there was only night with an occasional flash of green, yellow, or orange as curses lit the sky. She knew red, blood spilled on the ground and on her hands, and still saw it wherever she looked the majority of the time. Sunlight was a luxury during the last days, months, years, of the war. It had been over three months since she’d felt the warmth of the sun rays kiss her face.
There was a tension in her body as stood on the open street during the middle of the afternoon. Her gaze immediately found every hazardous area around her, sharp and alert as she continued to look for the enemy, hidden and ready to strike. She couldn’t be distracted by the vibrant colors of the flowers or the variety of clothing the Muggles were wearing. To relax for even a moment could mean death. It was a lesson she had, unfortunately, learned during the years of war as she watched friends and acquaintances fall in a flash of green for hesitating even briefly.
“It’s over, Granger.”
“It’s never truly over, Malfoy.”
Malfoy stopped walking and simply looked at her. “Do you plan to look for evil in the shadows for the rest of your life or am I just fortunate enough to be a witness to your breakdown?”
“Bastard,” she muttered as she met his gaze and shrugged, the action making her wince in pain. “How can you not look?”
“I’m not going to live my life in fear,” he informed her firmly. “We won that bloody war. People died on both sides. Now that it’s over, I’m not going to hide away like some coward.”
“It’s not that easy for me,” she admitted with a wry smile, her gaze narrowing as she noticed black from the corner of her eye. She relaxed only when she saw it was a woman wearing a long black coat and not a renegade Death Eater come to finish what so many had tried to start.
“Do I need to owl Potter?” Malfoy asked with an arched brow and smug smile, deliberately taunting her in a way he had perfected over the years. “Dear Potty, your Muggleborn is freaking out. Send money.”
“I’m not freaking out,” she said as she glared at him. “There’s just so much color and it doesn’t feel like it’s really over. Bugger off if you don’t like it. I don’t remember asking you to come with me, you know?”
“Of course you did,” he told her. “You gave me that look when you mentioned being released from St. Mungos and taking a short to holiday to finish recovering.”
“What look?” she queried as she ran her hand through her hair and frowned.
“The one that said ‘Malfoy, please come with me so I can confess my undying devotion and adoration for the perfection that is you’,” he quipped with a slight smirk. At her look, he sighed. “Fine. I was bored and pestering you has become a habit. Besides, the war has only been over for a few weeks and you shouldn’t be traveling alone until the rest of them are found and sent to Azkaban or, better yet, killed.”
“Oh, so I’m to relax and stop being paranoid yet the reason you’re here is to, what, baby sit me?”
“You don’t need a babysitter, Granger. You can take care of yourself better than most,” he reluctantly admitted. He looked away from her and made a face. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go and I’ve gotten used to your company so it seemed like a perfect arrangement. However, you’re proving to be just as much of a bossy nag after the war as you were during so I’m starting to think that even Weasley insulting me might have been a better choice.”
“I was a bossy nag before the war, Malfoy,” she pointed out with a hint of a smile. “That’s not changed at all, though I may be even worse now.”
“Why Seville?” he asked as he looked back at her.
“I saw it in a magazine once and loved the colors,” she confessed as she glanced around. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Do you really expect me to answer that?” He snorted and rolled his eyes, brushing his pale hair away from the vivid scar on his jaw.
Hermione reached up and dragged her fingertip over the mark, meeting his gaze as the air around them suddenly seemed to change. “We should head back to the hotel. It’s nearly lunch.”
“We’ll eat out. There are plenty of Muggle cafés,” he decided, his lip curling slightly as he said Muggle. He reached up and took her hand, brushing a light kiss against her palm before he dropped it and stepped away. “You wanted to walk and see colors, after all. The sun feels nice, too. It’s been ages since I’ve enjoyed an afternoon in the sun.”
“Fine,” she relented softly, her mind still whirling from the shift she’d practically felt happen during that charged moment of silence. This was Malfoy. True, they’d worked together a lot during the war and had a comfortable sort of friendship that she depended on nearly as much as hers with Ron and Harry but she’d never thought of him in that way. Well, not very often.
They started to walk down the streets of Seville. He lingered back so he’d not get too far ahead of her and she unconsciously took his hand when it was offered. She walked slowly with a slight limp, a permanent reminder of the war that St. Mungos hadn’t been able to fix, but it didn’t seem nearly as frustrating when she was enjoying a teasing conversation with a man that confused her in ways she didn’t quite understand. She wanted to understand it, she realized as she glanced at him discreetly and wondered if he felt as mixed up as she did at the moment.
With the war over, maybe it was time to move on and stop expecting danger in every shadow. Alert was fine but Malfoy was right; she’d been rather paranoid since the end of the war even while she’d been at the hospital and more so since leaving St. Mungos yesterday. He looked at her and arched a brow, giving her a look that said far more than he’d ever put into words.
Hermione relaxed slightly and smiled as she squeezed his hand gently. She didn’t know what exactly had shifted, though she had suspicions, but knew she’d enjoy figuring it all out in time. After all, they actually had the luxury of time and could think of a future, could explore the possibilities, whatever they may be. For now, though, she’d just enjoy the sunshine, soft conversation, and the beautiful colors of Seville.
The End