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By the time Draco came back inside, he’d accumulated a layer of snow. He levitated more firewood into the corner, then tried to shake off his coat.
“I’m not actually sure Harry’s coming,” Hermione said, looking out the window again. “You’d think after an entire decade with magic, he’d have figured out how to use a portkey.”
Draco went to crouch by the fireplace. “If he is, he’s not getting here from town in that. Do you think that’s enough firewood?”
“What, and make a third trip outside into the heavy snow and gale force winds?” Hermione summoned a bottle of wine from the kitchen, then opened it. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were avoiding me.”
“I just don’t want to have to go out again in an hour.”
“Come get something to eat,” Hermione offered. “At least I was in charge of bringing dinner and not Harry. Unfortunately, he has my presents, so you’re not getting any of those.”
“Oh, food,” Draco said, coming over.
She saw him start to reach for her, then stop as if he’d thought better of it.
“There are sandwiches. And tea. It’s got about six spoonfuls of sugar.”
“I might love you,” Draco said, around a mouthful of sandwich. “No, I absolutely lo –“ He cut himself off halfway through the sentence, and the silence was incredibly awkward. “I meant…”
“I’m going to check the windows in the bedrooms,” Hermione said. “And… unpack something. There’s more tea if you want it.”
She was unfolding a jumper when she heard the bedroom door open.
“I’m sorry,” Draco said, quietly, after a minute had gone by. “I seem to be fairly terrible at this.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“I don’t know what to do with any of it,” Draco said, after another minute.
“I get it.” Hermione carefully put a pair of socks in the drawer. “It’s fine.”
“No one’s ever said they were in love with me before.” There was another awkward pause. “And I certainly wasn’t expecting it from you.”
“Draco,” Hermione said, finally, “I know you’re not interested, and I really regret saying anything at all. And I’m sorry I put you in this position. But I really, desperately want to stop talking about it.” She added another pair of socks. “I’m starting to worry I ruined our entire friendship. Which isn’t a very good feeling. If I did, tell me, I’ll figure it out, but otherwise, can you just stop bringing it up? It’s been a month.”
“Okay.” Draco managed a smile. “You didn’t ruin anything. I’m just… not very good at knowing what to do. But I brought cards, if you want. And alcohol.” He laughed. “Which are about the only reasonable options when stuck in a cabin in Scotland for Christmas.”
“Or books,” Hermione said, dryly. “But that would probably be boring for you.”
“I’ve gotten fairly good at entertaining myself while you read. It’s only taken years of practice.”
“Straight gin?” Hermione offered.
“The card game or the drink?” Draco laughed. “Yes to both.”
A few hours later, Hermione was lying on stomach in front of the fireplace, looking at the Christmas tree Draco had transfigured from one of the logs. He was very carefully turning grains of sugar into delicate, oversized snowflakes, then hanging them on the tree.
“I’m never going to understand how you get better at magic when you’re drunk. It’s not really fair.”
Draco glanced over his shoulder at her, the snowflake in front of him still shifting into shape. “I think it’s that it ruins my focus.”
Hermione laughed. “That makes absolutely no sense.”
“I don’t try to control all the details.” Draco finished it and sent it to join the others. “Meaning that I care less if it’s absolutely perfect.”
“You are sort of terrible about that when sober,” Hermione agreed.
“And I’m extremely, inadvisably drunk,” Draco said, dryly. “So apparently I’m not bothering to be a perfectionist about advanced transfiguration.”
“That makes two of us.” Hermione rolled over onto her side. “The drunk part, I’m definitely avoiding advanced transfiguration.”
“I’m done,” Draco said, coming over to stretch out beside her. “I just found it marginally depressing that we had both no presents and no tree.”
“Blame Harry. Maybe if he’d actually managed to get here.”
Draco was studying the Christmas tree, not quite looking at her. “I think he might have missed the portkey deliberately.”
“Why? It’s Christmas. He invited us.”
“He keeps hoping I’ll talk with you,” Draco said, finally. “It’s possible he decided to abandon us alone in a cabin to accomplish that. Or that he’s annoyed with me and can’t avoid me at work, so he’s avoiding me now.”
“I’m going to bed if you’re thinking about bringing this up again, Draco.” She closed her eyes. “I know I don’t actually have the right to ask, but it would be incredibly nice if we could stop doing this.”
“I meant, he keeps hoping I’ll be honest with you,” Draco admitted.
“You have been. Incredibly, excruciatingly honest, and I just -” Hermione sat up. “At some point, you have to let it go.”
“I can’t seem to.” Draco wrapped a hand around her wrist. “And I… haven’t been. You never catch it, but Harry does.”
“Just say it. Whatever you want to say. And then can we please be done with it?”
“Harry said you think I don’t want you. That you think you’re not good enough. And that’s not true. It’s just that I don’t know how to avoid utterly ruining all of this.”
“By not making me talk about it constantly.” Hermione looked down at him. “The whole thing hurts, and it’s terrible and embarrassing and miserable. It’s not much fun when the person you want to be with doesn’t want to be with you. I’d really just like to pretend I never said anything. Let me try to get over you. We can be friends. I want to be friends.”
“You don’t touch me anymore,” Draco said, finally. “You don’t laugh at any of the stupid jokes I make.”
“Flirting isn’t all that appealing when you’re suddenly aware it was all one-sided.” Hermione ran a hand through her hair. “I’m embarrassed. And I’m sorry it’s not the same, I know it’s not fair to you, but I’m not entirely sure why you want me to keep doing things that are… more than friendly. Because we’re not more than friends.”
“Hermione,” Draco said, quietly, “the flirting wasn’t one-sided. I don’t want you to think you read all of that wrong. But I won’t be any good at any of this. I’ll make it even more awkward than I already have, and then I’ll push you away and try to behave as badly as possible just so you’ll leave.” He kept his hand around her wrist. “I know I can’t ask you to keep things the same as they were, but at least don’t feel embarrassed. It’s not that I’m not interested. It’s just that I know better.”
“Hold on,” Hermione said, slowly. “You want this too?”
“Of course I do.” Draco laughed, a little bitterly. “You’re brilliant and funny and incredible. But I know perfectly well that I can’t have it. I don’t think you know what sort of person I can be, although I don’t see how you’ve managed to miss it. I’d just wreck all of it.”
Hermione stared at him for a moment, then pulled free and stood up. “I’m going out to get more firewood so I don’t punch you in the face.”
“It’s cold,” Draco protested. “You might get lost.”
“It’s on the other side of the cabin.” She summoned her coat off the cloak rack. “If I’m not back in ten minutes, you can come make sure I haven’t frozen to death, but you’d better give it the full ten minutes, because at the moment, I really, truly want to kill you.”
Hermione came back in a few minutes later, putting the wood on the rack.
“I made tea,” Draco said. “I put whiskey in it. I can… go in the back. If you want.”
“You can’t just pretend not to want someone instead of having a conversation about it, Draco,” Hermione said, finally, but she came to get the mug. “That wasn’t fair to me.”
“Please don’t hate me for it.” He looked away. “I couldn’t come up with a better solution.”
Hermione didn’t say anything for a minute, then sighed. “You’re a little too good at lying. It gets you out of everything, so you fall back on it any time anything gets hard.”
Draco suddenly looked exhausted. “I told you. But I’ll understand if you want to yell.”
“Tempting, but it’s not going to help anything.”
“It’s possible there isn’t any helping this.”
“You’re forgetting that I know all your usual tricks,” Hermione said, finally, stepping closer. “You’ve tried all of them at least once on me.”
“This is why I don’t understand how you can possibly want more.”
“You can be infuriating.” Hermione started to laugh, softly. “Don’t get me wrong. But there are enough good things to outweigh the part where you react to uncertainty with self-sabotage.”
Draco was looking at his mug. “You’re too good for me. If we tried it, you’d realize that.”
“Draco,” Hermione murmured, nudging her shoulder against his, “you’re an absolute mess, but you’re my mess.”
“I’m not sure that’s a very strong argument. You could have someone who isn’t terrible at everything even remotely adjacent to emotional intimacy.”
“Or you could try not to be terrible at it,” Hermione suggested, amused. “Just a thought.”
“That’s not how that works.”
“It’s a little how that works.” Hermione stepped closer. She reached up, running her fingers through his hair. “I want to know if you want this. Not whether you think you’ll be any good at it, or whether you think I’m too good for you, or whether it’s sort of terrifying. Just that one piece.”
“I do.” Draco sounded quiet and resigned. “Of course I do. But, Hermione -”
“Draco,” Hermione murmured, “you’re awful when you’re scared. And even worse when you feel cornered. But you could trust that I know you.” She smiled. “You stopped managing to hide anything at least two years ago, I’ve seen all of it. I still love you.”
“You say that,” Draco said, “but I still think you’re going to change your mind. And then I won’t have you at all.”
“You might change your mind too,” Hermione pointed out.
Draco finally met her eyes. “I wouldn’t.”
Hermione laughed. “I’m really stubborn. And I think I’m always right. You might hate it.”
“That’s not news.”
“You can choose,” Hermione offered, then grinned. “But I’m stubborn, and I’m definitely right about this, so you might want to give in now.”
Draco sighed. “Harry’s with you. And not particularly impressed with me.”
“If you get on board, I’ll let it go that you lied to me for an entire month.”
“You can’t just threaten me into a relationship, you know,” Draco said, but he sounded a little amused.
“No, but I can call your bluff.” Hermione looked up at him. “Can I kiss you already?”
Draco swallowed. “You can’t bribe me into a relationship either.”
“You’d think that.” Hermione grinned again. “But I can definitely point out that the primary difference between our current relationship and dating is a lot of really indecent sex.”
“Ah.” Draco went still. “About that -”
“Draco,” Hermione said, patiently.
Draco glanced at her mouth, then met her eyes.
“Are you sure you want to?”
Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” she said, quietly.
“All right.” Draco still looked uncertain, but he finally wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her in. “Let’s make up for the part where you haven’t touched me in a month because I wouldn’t talk to you.”
Hermione didn’t bother to respond before she pulled him down for a kiss, pressing him back against the counter. Draco made a low, soft noise against her mouth, then took her face in his hands and kissed her back hard.
After a few minutes, she drew back, hooking a thumb in his belt loop and taking a step backward.
“I want to -” she managed, shakily, then kissed him again. “I want you.”
“Hermione,” Draco started.
She took another step backward, bringing him with her. “But maybe not in the kitchen. It’s cold. Fortunately, one of us is drunk enough to make the couch bigger.”
“I have to -”
Hermione stopped, suddenly unsure. “Unless I just read that incredibly badly.”
“You didn’t,” Draco said, firmly. He kissed her again, then did something to the couch, which suddenly looked significantly larger and absolutely nothing like the original couch. He laughed, then sat down. “No idea. But come here.”
Hermione slid into his lap, then laughed at the look on his face. “Never mind, you definitely like it.”
“Very much,” Draco said, “but I -”
Hermione kissed him again, guiding his hands to her waist before she went for the buttons on his shirt. “Fewer clothes.”
“Hold on, I -”
Hermione finished, starting to slide it off his shoulders.
“Hermione,” Draco said, grabbing her wrist. “I have to tell you something.”
Hermione stopped, then laughed, ruefully. “Sorry, I absolutely wasn’t listening.” She took her hand back, then ran her fingers through his hair, affectionate. “What is it?”
“I haven’t exactly…” Draco wasn’t looking at her, and his cheeks were flushed. “Done this. Before.”
“I thought we covered your general distrust of long-term relationships.” Hermione pressed a kiss to his temple. “It’s okay. I’m not going to leave just because you need time to adjust to dating me.”
“Not that. Or - yes, that too, but I meant… this.”
Hermione drew back to look at him. “Wait.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything, but…” Draco looked unsure. “Lying hasn’t gone very well for me this month, so I decided I shouldn’t.”
Hermione blinked, once, then had to try not to laugh. Draco froze.
“No,” she managed, taking his face in her hands and kissing him. “Not like that - it’s just…”
“I know,” Draco managed, looking miserable, “it’s part of why I was trying to say no to you, I get that it’s -”
“It’s just that you look like... that,” Hermione interrupted, kissing him again, starting to laugh. “And I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone in my life. So it’s a little inconceivable that no one’s gotten there first.” She considered him. “Also, Harry has absolutely made offhand remarks about your sex life.”
Draco was still tense. “He was giving me some cover. I didn’t particularly want you to know.”
“You’re an idiot.” Hermione drew back to look at him. “Harry’s also an idiot. I’ll yell at him later.”
“He was trying to help, I asked him to.”
“He’s supposed to talk you out of lying about stupid things, not back you,” Hermione said, dryly, then reached to wrap a hand around the back of his neck, rubbing her thumb just beneath the base of his skull. “Do you want to wait? Or slow this down?” She pressed her thumb deeper, until Draco finally leaned into her touch. “It’s okay. Just talk to me.”
He wrapped an arm around her waist, tentatively. “It isn’t… anything. I just wanted something real. Then I became one of those people with absolutely no social life outside of the Aurors, and then I started spending all my free time with you and Harry. After a while the idea of being with anyone who wasn’t you didn’t seem very appealing. But if it’s a problem -”
Hermione shifted closer. “It’s the opposite of a problem.” She nuzzled the curve of his neck. “You apparently didn’t notice that I started wanting to stab things every time Harry mentioned you sleeping with someone else.”
“No,” Draco said, slowly.
“It’s possible I’m a little possessive,” Hermione said, then laughed. “It’s possible I find the whole thing appealing.”
“Oh,” Draco said, then buried his face against her shoulder, finally starting to laugh. “I’m going to be very annoyed with myself later for not trusting you with that information.”
“I’m going to be annoyed with you too.” Hermione slid a hand under his t-shirt. “Later. How slowly do you want to take this?”
Draco kissed her jaw. “Not slowly at all.” He arched into her touch. “I’ll just think about it too much.”
Hermione ran her nails down his spine. “Do I need to let you sober up?”
“I wanted this before I drank five glasses of wine,” Draco said, dryly. “I still do. You?”
“I would have said yes while completely sober.” Hermione nudged her nose against his. “It probably won’t be perfect. So don’t panic when it isn’t.” She kissed him, then grinned against his mouth, letting more of her weight onto him. “Don’t worry, I know how to ask for what I want. Although mostly what I want is for you to like this.”
“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem,” Draco managed, breathing going uneven.
“If you’re going to worry about the first round being too fast,” Hermione said, leaning back to pull her jumper over her head, “just remember that we have about twice as much firewood as we actually need, at least three more bottles of wine, and literally all night.” She grinned. “And I’ll get off on you being enthusiastic.”
“Well,” Draco said, thoughtfully, “that definitely wasn’t worth worrying about for several years.”
“Probably not,” Hermione said, then undid the clasp of her bra. “But maybe practice not keeping everything to yourself for the next few hours.” She grinned. “If you’re honest about what you like, you can have more of it.”
“Great,” Draco said, after a pause, “brilliant, yes, I’ll just…”
Hermione just laughed and kissed him again.
After, Draco stayed completely tangled around her. They’d finally given in and moved to the bedroom, buried under at least four quilts and with the fire still up in the main room.
“I might be falling asleep,” Draco murmured, against her shoulder. He was playing with a piece of her hair. “I don’t want to be falling asleep.”
Hermione laughed, snuggling closer. “I’m definitely falling asleep. But there’s always tomorrow. I think we should spend Christmas refusing to get out of bed.”
Draco looked at her. “Did you like that enough to want to keep doing it?”
Hermione rolled over so she could look at him. “It’s you,” she said, softly. “Of course I did.”
Draco looked sheepish. “Not helping. I was hoping you wouldn’t qualify it.”
“Is this you fishing for compliments?”
“This is me not wanting a pass if it wasn’t good.”
Hermione kissed him, then slid her calf between his. “Shockingly,” she said, “you seem to actually listen well. It was very unexpected given the fact that you never listen at all outside of bed. I liked it.”
Draco laughed. “You’re always right. It seemed like the best way to get results.” He considered her. “And I like it when you’re bossy.”
“You’re very, very good with your hands,” Hermione said, amused. “I came more than once tonight. That’s usually a good sign in terms of wanting to do it again.”
Draco laughed. “It’s simultaneously more and less complicated than I was expecting.”
“I’m not sure it was, technically speaking, the best sex I’ve ever had,” Hermione offered. “But it was definitely the sex I’ve enjoyed most.” She nuzzled his jaw. “Take the compliment.”
“I can live with that.” Draco kissed her again. “As long as we’re clear that I’m working on that first part. Give me a few months.”
“More like give you a week,” Hermione said, amused. “I get the feeling you might be a quick study.”
When Hermione came out the next morning, yawning, she found Harry poking at the fireplace.
“Hey,” he said. “I, as it turns out, can’t apparate in a blizzard. But the people at the inn in town were very nice.”
“You’d better have brought presents.” Hermione went to put the kettle on.
“Where’s Draco?”
“Still in bed.” She found mugs. “Although I think he’s about five minutes from waking up.”
“I put my bags in the bedroom that he and I are supposed to be sharing,” Harry said, straight-faced. “It’s funny, he’s not in there.”
“That would be because he’s in the bedroom we weren’t supposed to be sharing.”
“Please tell me that wasn’t some sort of cold-based decision.”
“He can’t be that cold, he isn’t wearing clothes.”
Harry started to laugh. “I figured there were fifty-fifty odds on showing up to either this or a dead body.”
“It was almost the latter.” Hermione poured the tea. “But thank you for getting him to tell me the truth.”
“I told him he could do it or I was going to,” Harry said, dryly. “It was more of a blackmail situation.”
“I think the ends justified the means, but I might be biased.”
“You know, I suddenly remembered I have a… pressing work thing.” Harry got up, with a grin. “I should probably go do that. Keep him in bed until you can get it through his head that you’re actually interested.”
“At least stay for presents.” Hermione laughed. “And ordinarily, I’d tell you that we love you and really want you around, but I might need the head start before we go back to London. That’s going to be a challenge.”
“I’m not happy that you got up, I had to put on clothes to come get you,” Draco said, then stopped in the doorway. “Oh. You made it.”
“You sound so happy to see me,” Harry said, grinning. “The happiest.”
“I was thinking about feigning enthusiasm,” Draco said, thoughtfully, “but I’m incredibly hungover, and now I can’t go back to bed.”
“You can if you want.” Hermione held out her mug. “Although there’s Pepper Up in my bag if you’d like to be less hungover.”
“You’re not in it, it defeats the point.” Draco came over and took it, then leaned against the counter. “I was also thinking about being embarrassed, but my head hurts too much to bother.”
“I’m not actually convinced this is going to look any different than usual,” Harry said, dryly. “You’ve been all over each other for at least a year.”
“In retrospect,” Draco said, “it’s possible I’m somewhat oblivious.”
“You?” Hermione said. “Never.”
“I’m willing to make breakfast before we open presents,” Harry offered. “Then I need to go do paperwork for that arrest last week.”
Draco made a face. “Am I supposed to offer to come help with that?”
“No, because I’m not actually going to do paperwork. I’m leaving so you can have more sex. You’re welcome.”
“Oh.” Draco laughed. “Never mind, in that case, I’m happy to see you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Harry said. “Merry Christmas, someone pass me the eggs so I can start this.”
A few days later, Hermione was considering sending an owl - or possibly staking out Harry’s office - when she heard the front door.
“Hi,” Draco said, a little awkwardly. “Can I come in? I brought chinese food. It’s… apology chinese food. Because you think flowers aren’t very practical.”
Hermione held open the door, then took the bag, sending it to the kitchen table. “Hi.”
She stepped close, wrapping an arm around his waist, and he let out a breath and buried his face against the curve of her neck.
“The chinese food is to apologize for disappearing for three days,” he offered, slightly muffled. “I know you’re probably not particularly happy with me.”
“It’s okay.” Hermione pulled him closer. “I thought you needed space.”
“I thought you’d come find me,” Draco admitted, “and then I was worried that you changed your mind when you didn’t.” He pulled back to look at her. “But then I realized it was probably better to come ask. And that it wasn’t fair to make you chase me.” He ran a hand through her hair, then tilted her face up. “Also, I missed you too much to manage to avoid you.”
Hermione smiled, then kissed him. “I didn’t change my mind. I was trying not to push.” She nudged her nose against his. “But I’m hoping you were staying away because you liked all of it, not because you didn’t.”
Draco kissed her again. “I liked it so much it scared me.” He drew back, meeting her eyes. “But it occurred to me that if I run away from this, then I definitely won’t have any of it. If I stay and try… it might not work, but the odds are better than if I hide.”
“I think the odds are pretty good, actually.” Hermione grinned. “And if you stay put, there’s definitely a lot more sex involved.”
“I like that idea. I like… the whole thing, actually. And I love you.” He laughed, softly. “I decided it wouldn’t kill me to admit it.”
“I think we should eat your apology chinese food, and then I can read a book on top of you,” Hermione offered, with a grin. “I missed that.”
“Me too.” Draco grinned back. “But no promises on trying not to start something if you’re going to insist on lying on me.”
“I can live with that,” Hermione said, and pulled him down for another kiss.