Nothing Like You and I

A/N: There are things in here that are meant to be ambiguous. Such as: what was the relationship between Draco and Hermione prior to his death and why does she not remember and he denying it. Keep commenting on what you think is going on and your theories. I’m really enjoying reading them! Hope you enjoy this chapter.

For others wondering about my other stories: They will be updated soon. I am working on a new chapter for Not All that Glitters is Gold, Count Your Blessings as well as the first chapter of Draco’s POV in Nicest Thing. I have not forgotten about them and hate when stories go dead after awhile (I understand how frustrating it can be, especially if you are truly enjoying them).

Songs:
* Ending Arrangement *
Death Cab for Cutie – We Looked Like Giants
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1k4KFfbnUL8

* The Touch *
Longview – If You Asked
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_OZZsqs8ja8

* Hearing Hearts Beat *
Embrace – Gravity
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nr9AcsFlDek

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Ending Arrangements

Hermione’s eyes widened as she heard Draco storm into the room. Darting them to the side, she watched as the annoying prat stood above them with his fists clenched. Theo had brought his lips to her throat, groaning softly against her skin. If it were possible for Hermione to crawl into a hole and die – she would have wanted to do that right at that moment. She moaned unintentionally when Theo rocked his hips against her, the stem of his bulge rubbed against her center.

She felt his hand trace up her thigh, pushing her skirt higher as he went until his fingers grasped onto the elastic of her knickers. Hermione’s eyes widened as she felt the cool air brush against her skin and instantly brought a hand to his, stopping him before anything further could occur.

She closed her eyes and brought her hands to his chest, pushing him back, “Theo…”

Feeling him move almost instantly, Hermione had to bite back the feeling of eventual rejection. He stared down at her with his forest colored eyes, hair mussed and lips pink, glistening from their kisses. His cheeks were stained with blood that pooled across his cheeks. Their chests were heaving and if possible, he looked more attractive then he had ever before. Hermione was prompted to kiss him but with Draco clearing his throat and stomping angrily behind them she couldn’t make herself move beyond small squirms.

“Theo, I’m sorry.” Hermione whispered, biting her bottom lip and she clenched her knees together.

“No, I’m sorry,” He whispered, “Too fast. We’re moving too fast.

“No, no. It’s not that it’s…” Hermione tried not to look at Draco, who had moved behind Theo glaring.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Draco snarled, “What happened to ‘I can take care of myself?’ The first guy that comes along and you spread your thighs?”

“Merlin, shut up,” Hermione whispered, bringing her hand to her head. She felt faint and a headache beginning to form at her temples. Theo leaned back against her bed with one foot on the bed and his arm draped over his knee.

“Pardon?” Theo asked, looking around to see if she was indeed talking to him..

“Nothing,” she quickly said, clearing her throat, “I don’t want you to think that I do this a lot…”

“I know Hermione. You’d be the last person I’d expect to move before you’re ready,” Theo nodded, making Hermione frown a little. Did he think she was a cold fish? Or was that meant to be a compliment?

Theo rose to a stand although he looked incredibly uncomfortable with the large bulge seated in his lap. “It is my fault. Thinking that I could replace him, it’s clear that you’re not over him.”

“What?” Hermione frowned, “What are you on about?”

“Draco,” Theo explained – causing Draco to perk up and grin at Hermione, “I mean isn’t that why you’re researching Nimue’s Hill? So you could find him and get closure?”

“Closure? Are you assuming that I need closure because of,” Hermione’s eyes flashed to Draco – who was standing in the corner of the room like the annoying voyeur he was. “I don’t need closure. Draco and I were only school mates, you should know that.”

“Of course,” Theo pulled his jacket on, “But that’s from your perspective.”

“Liar,” Draco snarled, his face twisting into an angry glare, “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

Hermione waved her hand in the air at Draco to motion for him to shut up – her actions caused Theo to raise his eyebrow. He cleared his throat and pulled her to her feet, helping her pull her skirt back down from her waist before moving to the living room. Draco leaned over his wicker chair and watched the end of Hermione’s skirt flutter behind the door.

“Theo, it’s been five years. Surely you don’t think…” Hermione followed him into the living room where he picked his traveling cloak up and draped it around his shoulders.

“I’ll owl you, ok?” He interrupted, holding the door open, “Listen, Hermione. I really like you but Draco was my mate and if…if he was here…”

Draco grinned from his seat in Hermione’s wicker chair, steepling his fingers together as he heard Hermione and Theo begin to argue in the living room. Nott surely was a wanker but Draco didn’t exactly mind – as long as he kept his fat gob shut. He listened to the door shut and rose, half expecting Hermione to charge into the bedroom.

Like clockwork, her door broke open, “Now, now Granger. Don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

“How dare you!” Hermione snarled, slamming her door shut, “I have never done anything to you, how could you just…I hate you! I hate you!”

Draco clenched his jaw and growled, “I wasn’t the one getting naked on the bed with a former Slytherin. If it’s any consolation, I just saved you from the worst night of your life.”

“It already is the worst night because you’re here! Why don’t you just go away? Why don’t you leave me alone!” Hermione screamed at him, her fists balling up.

“Do you think I want to be here?” Draco snapped back, “You think I want to sit around and watch my mate play slap and tickle with the bane of my existence? If I could, I would have already left but as we all know I can’t!”

“Go haunt some one else for a change!” Hermione hissed, “I want a normal life! I don’t want to wake up to see your ugly face every day for the rest of my life!”

“Like you’d be doing anything else besides being alone,” Draco said coldly, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed. Turning down invitations to dinner with your friends, not being around when Potter had his kid, locking yourself away in this hovel, working for hours on end even when you don’t need to – you want to be alone and miserable. Stop using me as an excuse to your own denial.”

The Touch

Hermione slapped him. She felt the wind beneath her fingers as her hand collided with his cheek. A powerful blow that sent his head reeling to the side. There was a small tingle against her fingers and palm from the collision of their skin. She let out a loud snarl and threw her bedroom door open, storming out. However, she paused midway through the hallway. Her eyes widened and she spun around to Draco standing behind her – his own eyes widened.

He felt it. He bloody felt that slap. It hurt and by gods did he want her to do it again – not because he was into machosadism – but because he felt her. She touched him and he felt it. Before he could even think, he moved to the door and threw it open. Rushing into the hall with her and just as she realized it, they came face to face.

Hermione’s lips were parted and she was shaking. Draco extended his hand to her and slowly inched its way to her face. A pickling sensation crawled up his arm as his finger tips grazed her soft cheek, causing him to inhale quickly. Their eyes began wide when he pressed his palm against her face and stepped closer to her. Hermione let out what sounded like a small sob but she wasn’t crying; she was in shock.

She reached out as well, her hand traveling up his chest as it heaved under her touch, skimming up his throat and through his hair. Draco inhaled and closed his eyes when he felt the warmth of her hand against him. He moved then and lowered his head, bending lower to press his lips against her. Grasping onto the back of her head with his other hand, Draco’s lips crushed her own in a heated affair. He could taste her like sweet cherry ice burning against his flesh.

Hermione felt her eyes droop as his did and leaned up, her own lips meshing with his. His lips parted and a breath brushed over her face, the smell of spearmint lit her cheeks on fire. Draco leaned in once more and captured her lips, pushing her against the wall softly. This was unreal. Unreal. Hermione felt his breath against her, the thumping of his dead heart pushing against her chest, his hands skimming through her hair, his own body heat against hers. This was…this was wrong. So wrong.

She brought her hands to his chest and gave a half-hearted shove, pushing him back against the adjacent wall. They panted from their kiss, both hands planted firmly against the wall. Hermione stared at him as he stared at her and mustered whatever strength she had. She moved, pushing - pushing not walking through - past him and slammed her door shut.

Draco leaned back against the wall and tilted his head back. He brought his fingers to his lips and felt the glistening of their kiss. A curved smirk grew across his lips. Hermione leaned back against her door and brought her own fingers to her lips before letting out a loud gasp. She felt him, touched him, kissed him. What in the world was going on?

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Hearing Hearts Beat

Hermione stayed in her bed that entire day, huddling against a pillow. She buried her face into the sheets and tried to claim sleep but she couldn’t. Her eyes were wide and she was breathing softly. She couldn’t sleep, knowing what she experienced. She couldn’t even think.

The door clicked open and was followed by footsteps and a heavy weight against the foot of her bed. She curled up and closed her eyes – maybe it was a dream. Maybe the last five years was a dream and she’d wake up and everything would be different. Somehow she didn’t think so.

“Are you going to move at all today?” Draco asked, combing his hand through his hair.

“Go away,” Hermione mumbled under the blankets, “I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Well you’re going to have to because I am not leaving,” Draco replied, resting his hand on Hermione’s covered foot.

She withdrew it from his touch, finding herself still shocked by the revelation. Draco frowned and leaned forward, resting a hand on the side of her. She could feel his body weight against her and it confused her – not to mention scared her. Was she dying as well?

“Get up,” Draco purred, brushing his chin against the sheet, “I’ve spent five years not being able to touch a thing and I’m not going to waste whatever moment I have left letting you lie in bed.”

“You’re not going to touch me, ever again,” Hermione snapped, rising up from her bed which Draco followed.

She pulled her sheets down and frowned at him – he looked positively glowing with how the light shone around him. Normally he looked a tad transparent but now, now he looked as if he were really there. Solid and breathing. Draco reached out to brush her hair from her face but Hermione recoiled and stood, setting some distance between them.

“I’m going to shower,” she defended, rushing out of the room and leaving Draco sitting on her bed.

She turned the spickets on as cold as it could get – maybe it’d shock her into reality. Disrobing and climbing in, Hermione hissed at the prickles of icy water against her skin. She didn’t care. Leaning against the front of her shower while water caressed her body, Hermione inhaled deeply. She kept her eyes closed and just stood there – letting herself be engulfed by the iciness of the water.

When she walked out wrapped in a towel, Hermione saw Draco sitting at the kitchen table as he had every day for the past five years. Dressing in loose gray sweats and a t-shirt, Hermione walked into the kitchen and promptly went to work ignoring him. Draco was up in an instant, following her closely, his hands glued to her shoulders.

“Would you stop?” Hermione growled as she tried to make her coffee, “Yes, it’s amazing you can now annoy me by physical contact, now just go sit down and let me make my coffee in peace.”

Draco said nothing but leaned in, brushing his lips against her throat which caused a shiver to run up her spine, thrice as cold as the shower she had just taken.

“Ok.” He whispered, moving from her completely. It was almost shocking considering she expected a rebuttal of some kind but in the end she knew he wanted to appease her in the off chance she’d allow him to lay a finger on her – even if it were a graze. She could indulge him if she wasn’t so angry with what he did when Theo was there. Stupid prat.

Hermione stood in her kitchen longer than she normally did, even after her coffee was finished brewing. Staring at the blackness of her coffee, Hermione’s mind began tinkering. Something happened that evening that allowed him to be able to touch her – it must have been. It couldn’t have…could it?

She sat across from Draco, sipping her coffee in silence while he stared at her. Those annoying blue eyes bore into her own as if he were reading her mind or looking into her soul. Whenever she extended a hand to pick a grape from her bowl of fruit, she noticed his hand twitch and reach a few centimeters toward her but halt when she pulled her hand back.

“I think I figured it out,” Hermione said, breaking his concentration on her lips.

“Figured what out?” He asked, licking his lips when she took a bite of a strawberry.

Hermione chewed and brought a tissue to her lips, wiping the remnants from the corners of her mouth, “Why you can touch me. Why I can feel you and you me.”

He quirked an eyebrow and leaned forward, “Yeah? Well, I’m open for your theories.”

“Emotions,” Hermione simply said, watching his brow furrow. She sipped at her black coffee, neglecting to use sugar and creamer as she usually did. She needed that extra jolt of bitterness to ensure she wasn’t losing her mind completely.

“Emotions?” Draco repeated, looking as if he were confused and skeptical but curious as well, “What about it?”

“I was so angry at you,” Hermione continued, placing her mug onto the table, “And you were angry because of…”

“If you’re assuming that I was jealous…” Draco interrupted, holding a finger out, “You’ve got another thing…”

“Shut up and let me finish,” Hermione snapped, watching his finger lower onto the table and his cheeks flush, “Anyway, we were both running under high emotions and as you know emotions trigger fluctuations of magic.”

“So, you’re saying because we wanted to claw each other’s eyes out, we were able to some how channel out magic into doing so?”

“It’s a theory,” Hermione shrugged, “Then again, it’s confusing because I can still feel you and I’m hardly angry. Annoyed, but not angry.”

“So much for that theory then,” Draco said smugly, leaning back in his seat, “You think I can touch others now?”

“Probably not,” Hermione nodded down to Crookshanks who traveled through his legs as he rubbed against the leg of the chair, “But, I will look into it.”

She rose after polishing off her coffee and walked back into the kitchen. When she spun around, Draco had appeared behind her in the annoying manner he always had. He leaned in, grasping her by the back of her neck and pulled her to him – pressing his lips against hers for the second time in eight hours. Hermione’s eyes widened for a second before they slowly began to droop at the taste of his lips. His tongue traced her bottom lip, waiting for her to part her lips to allow him entrance. When she did, he took no time in claiming her mouth, pushing her up against the counter.

Hermione gasped as his hands traveled down to her waist where he pulled back only slightly. A significant pop echoed from the release of their lips sending shivers up Hermione’s spine. She stared at him and blinked, her lips red and glistening as were his.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Hermione whispered, feeling her heart catch in her throat.

“What does it look like?” Draco asked, pressing his forehead against hers, “I spent five years staring at those lips of yours and now…”

She leaned up and pressed her mouth against his, moaning into the kiss. Hermione pushed back against him, snaking her arms around his waist and pressed her hands against his lower back. Draco groaned and pushed against her as well, propping her up against the counter where he brought his hands to her thighs and wrapped them around his hips. His lips attacked her neck and she couldn’t help but loll her head back, whispering nonsense at his touch.

Her hands felt his muscled chest as they rested on his shoulders, moaning softly at his touch. Her eyes snapped open and she gasped, pushing him back from her.

“No, stop,” Hermione whispered breathlessly, “I can’t do this. This isn’t real.”

She hopped down from the counter and moved from the kitchen, Draco walking firmly behind her.

“Have you gone mental?” Draco hissed, reaching out to grasp her wrist and pull her back, “I bloody well threw myself at you and you have the nerve to…to reject me? Me! A Malfoy!”

“You’re delirious,” Hermione mumbled, yanking her hand free, “You spent five years not being able to touch anyone and now that you can you’re trying to make up for that time.”

“So?” Draco asked, shoving a hand onto his pocket, “What’s wrong with that?”

Hermione scoffed, “Unbelievable.” She turned and stalked back into her bedroom, her cheeks still flustered.

“Admit it, Granger,” Draco called from behind her, “You want me, you always have. Even in school.”

“Oh, get your head out of your arse Malfoy,” Hermione snapped covering her bed with her sheets; “You were and are a prat. No one in their right mind would so much as look at you twice.”

“If you haven’t noticed, you kissed me,” Draco grinned, “That should be proof enough.”

“A moment of lapsed judgment,” She defended, fluffing her pillows, “And if I recall, you kissed me first. Twice.”

“Like you said, I’m trying to make up for all the times I couldn’t touch anyone and it just so happens to be you,” Draco shrugged, “You should feel honored.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled her hair up, tying it with a hair tie before pushing past Draco and moving into her living room.

“Where are you going?” Draco asked, following her yet again.

“Out,” Hermione said, grabbing her traveling cloak, “I can’t stay here anymore.”

“When…when will you be back?”

“I don’t know. Don’t wait up,” Hermione said stepping into the Floo.

“Granger,” Draco said, extending his hand as she disappeared in an envelope of green flames, “Bugger.”