Shifting Perspectives
The office was winding down, the steady rhythm of the day giving way to the quiet moments when most of the staff were wrapping up their tasks. Hermione sat at her desk, head bent over a report, her thoughts once again drifting to Draco. It had been a good day—a normal day—and it felt strangely calming, even though there was still so much left unsaid between them.
But her quiet bubble was burst when she heard the familiar voice cut through the air, sharp and slightly condescending.
“Well, well. Look who’s become the big shot,” Michael’s voice rang out, cutting through the noise of the office as he stepped into the doorway, a smirk forming on his face.
Hermione froze, her fingers stilling on the keyboard as she looked up. A flash of surprise passed through her, followed by an unexpected wave of irritation. She hadn’t seen Michael in a while, not since that tense interaction at the gala, and to be honest, she hadn’t missed him.
“Michael,” she said, trying to sound casual, though she could already feel the unease creeping in. “What are you doing here?”
He stepped further into the room, making himself at home as if it were still his place. "I was in the area," Michael said smoothly, his eyes flicking across the room with a casual air. “Thought I’d drop by, see how things were going.”
Hermione narrowed her eyes slightly, her thoughts immediately going to Draco. Please don’t let him show up right now, she silently willed. She wasn’t sure why Michael’s presence made her so uneasy—it had been a while since their last conversation—but the way he was acting now didn’t sit well with her.
Michael’s gaze shifted, and just as she expected, his eyes landed on her. His tone turned slightly flirtatious, a mischievous grin curling at the corners of his mouth. “You look... different,” he said, his eyes trailing over her as if he were assessing her every move. “Lovelier. Happier. Like you're glowing.”
Hermione’s skin prickled, the familiar discomfort settling in. She wasn’t sure how to handle this—how to tell him, politely, that his unwanted attention wasn’t welcome anymore. "I’m busy, Michael," she said, her voice tight, trying to maintain composure. “If you don’t mind, I have work to do.”
Michael didn’t seem deterred, leaning casually against the edge of her desk. “Work can wait, Hermione. I’m sure we could catch up a little while longer.” His voice lowered slightly, his gaze locking with hers in a way that made her uncomfortable.
Just as she opened her mouth to respond, a familiar voice rang out from the doorway, breaking the mounting tension.
“I think you should leave,” Draco’s voice was calm, but the cold edge underneath it was unmistakable.
Hermione turned sharply to see Draco standing in the doorway, his posture straight, eyes sharp and focused. He didn’t look surprised, but there was a flash of annoyance on his face that made her heart race. Michael, for the first time, looked taken aback by Draco’s sudden appearance. The air in the room shifted instantly, the tension growing as Draco moved toward them.
Michael straightened up, his smile faltering just slightly. “Didn’t realize this was a public affair,” Michael said, trying to cover his discomfort with a casual shrug. His eyes flicked to Hermione, then back to Draco. “I was just checking in on an old friend.”
Draco’s gaze was unwavering as he walked closer, his voice smooth but laced with a dangerous edge. “I don’t think Hermione needs you checking in on her, Michael,” he said, his tone low but firm. “You’ve made my wife uncomfortable. And I’m not going to stand here and let you do it again.”
Michael hesitated, clearly thrown by Draco’s assertiveness, but he recovered quickly, his smile faltering into something more forced. “What’s your problem, Malfoy? Can’t a bloke be friendly?”
Draco took a step forward, his posture growing more imposing. “I think I made myself clear. You’re crossing boundaries and there's one thing I won't stand for, and thats making my wife feel uncomfortable.” He glanced at Hermione, the irritation clear in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by something softer as he looked back at Michael. “Leave. Now.”
Michael’s gaze flickered between Draco and Hermione. He seemed to weigh the situation for a moment before shrugging, his words dripping with false indifference. “Fine. I’ll leave you two alone, then.” He turned to walk toward the door, his back still to them. “But just know, Granger, I’ll be seeing you again.”
Draco’s expression darkened, "Its Malfoy." Michael stayed silent and left. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving a heavy silence hanging in the room.
Hermione let out a slow, shaky breath, finally releasing the tension in her shoulders. She hadn’t realized how much Michael’s presence had unsettled her until it was gone.
Draco turned back to face her, his expression softer now, though still tinged with annoyance. “Are you okay?” His voice was quieter, more concerned than she expected.
Hermione stood still for a moment, taking in the weight of the moment. “I’m fine,” she said, but her voice was a little unsteady. She hadn’t expected Michael’s visit to shake her up as much as it had. She hadn’t realized just how much she didn’t want him around until Draco had intervened.
But Draco didn’t let the moment pass by. He took a few steps toward her, his eyes scanning her face. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Hermione. If that bothered you...”
Hermione’s heart twisted at the softness in his voice. She could feel the care he was offering, and it made something in her chest flutter. She smiled faintly, her eyes meeting his. “It did. But I’ll be fine. It’s just... Michael.”
Draco’s eyes softened, and for a brief moment, he didn’t say anything. He simply stepped closer and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. “If you need anything... a moment, or space... just let me know. I'm here.”
Hermione’s breath caught in her throat, and she felt a sudden rush of emotion. She wasn’t sure why, but she knew in that moment that Draco was offering something more than just his protection. He was offering comfort, something she hadn’t realized she needed so desperately.
“I need a hug,” she whispered softly, more to herself than him.
Draco stepped closer, his voice calm but filled with understanding. “You can always have one... anytime.”
He didn’t pull her into his arms right away, though. Instead, he left the choice to her. He wanted her to take the comfort she needed—when she needed it. Hermione stood still for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest, then stepped into his arms, allowing herself to be enveloped by the warmth of his embrace.
It was quiet for a moment, just the two of them standing there. Hermione let out a soft breath, feeling safe for the first time all day. She was finally ready to let someone else in—let Draco in—in a way she hadn’t before. And in that moment, she knew this wasn’t just about protection or attraction. It was something deeper.
Draco’s arms tightened around her, a silent promise that he would always be there for her. And Hermione, for the first time, allowed herself to believe it.
As they were leaving, the elevator doors closed behind them as they left the office, and the familiar hum of the lift filled the space between them. The tension from the encounter with Michael had slowly begun to dissipate, but the lingering energy between Draco and Hermione remained—neither of them ready to return to just being colleagues or friends. There was something new between them now, something more.
Draco leaned against the back wall of the elevator, his arms crossed over his chest, his brow slightly furrowed in thought. Hermione stood beside him, stealing occasional glances at him, still feeling the warmth of his embrace.
She hadn’t known what she needed until Draco had wrapped his arms around her, offering the comfort she hadn’t even realized she was craving. And now, the simple, natural closeness of being in the same space together felt different—more intimate than before. She couldn’t help but wonder if they were both feeling it, this shift between them, and if it was something they could navigate without disrupting the delicate balance they had so carefully built.
The elevator stopped with a soft ding, and the doors slid open to reveal the lobby. They walked out side by side, neither of them speaking immediately. The air between them seemed to hum with the unspoken understanding that things were different now. The way Draco’s fingers brushed lightly against hers as they passed each other in the hallway wasn’t just accidental—it was deliberate.
Hermione glanced at him from the corner of her eye, her lips curling slightly into a smile. “So, what now?” she asked, her voice softer than usual, as though they had entered new territory together, and she wasn’t entirely sure where to go next.
Draco’s lips twitched at the corners, the usual controlled smirk still present but laced with something warmer. “Now,” he said, his voice low but carrying that familiar teasing edge, “I’m taking you to dinner.”
Hermione raised an eyebrow. “Dinner?”
“Dinner,” he confirmed with a nod, a glimmer of something mischievous in his eyes. “Because after that,” he gestured vaguely to their earlier interaction with Michael, “I think you deserve a nice, quiet evening with some good food. And it’s a good excuse for me to keep you close.”
The hint of possessiveness in his words sent a little thrill through Hermione, and she couldn’t help but smile, a little shy but also a little giddy. “I’d like that,” she said quietly, her heart doing an unfamiliar skip.
They made their way out of the building, stepping into the cool evening air. A walk might be just what they need to move on from what just happened.
The walk to the restaurant was filled with an easy silence, neither of them feeling the need to fill the space with conversation. There was a comfort in the stillness, in the shared understanding that they didn’t need to force anything. The night was theirs, and for once, they didn’t feel the need to rush.
The restaurant they arrived at was upscale but not ostentatious, the kind of place where the ambiance was as warm and intimate as the food was exquisite. As they were led to their table in the corner, Draco pulled out Hermione’s chair, a small, gentlemanly gesture that made her heart flutter in a way she wasn’t prepared for. It was a simple act, but somehow it felt more personal than anything that had happened between them before.
Draco sat across from her, his gaze steady but softer than usual as he looked at her, as if he were seeing her for the first time again. “You look beautiful tonight, Hermione,” he said, his voice low, sincere.
Hermione felt her cheeks warm, but she couldn’t help the small, pleased smile that tugged at her lips. “Thank you, Draco,” she said, the words feeling more meaningful than they usually would have. She felt like she was seeing him in a new light too—this side of him, the one who cared so deeply, who was vulnerable in his own way, but was still trying to navigate everything with her. It was refreshing. And frightening.
The evening passed in pleasant conversation—light, but with an undertone that neither of them was willing to ignore. They discussed work, their plans for the upcoming week, even some of their old memories from Hogwarts. There was a surprising ease between them, as though the past hadn’t mattered at all in this moment.
But, of course, it did matter. They both knew that. But they didn’t need to speak it aloud right now. There would be time for that later. For now, they just let themselves be.
As the night wound down, Draco drove them back to the apartment. The silence in the car was comfortable again, neither of them feeling the pressure to fill it. When they reached the door to the building, Hermione turned to him, her expression serious but warm.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice soft, almost hesitant. “For today. For everything.”
Draco looked at her, the weight of her words settling on him. He reached out, brushing his fingers lightly over hers. “Please don't say that. You NEVER have to thank me for that. I just... I don’t want you to feel alone in any of this. Not when you don’t have to.”
Hermione’s heart fluttered in her chest at his words. She could feel the sincerity in them, the way he meant it. It wasn’t just about protecting her or providing comfort—it was about being there for her, emotionally, in a way no one had really done before.
“I don’t feel alone when I’m with you,” she whispered, looking up at him with wide eyes, her voice quiet but full of something real.
Draco paused for a moment, his gaze locking with hers. It was as if the world around them disappeared, leaving only the two of them standing there, in the soft glow of the evening. The bond they shared was still new, still fragile in places, but it was undeniable.
He stepped closer, his voice low and intimate as he murmured, “Good.”
He didn’t kiss her—though he was tempted, so tempted—but instead, he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her into a brief, tender hug. It was enough. It was everything. Hermione melted into his embrace, feeling safe, sated, and finally at peace.