Chapter 02

It has been more than a week since they last saw each other. Draco often wonders if the little Gryffindor has lost her courage. He still has her card on him. He knows what is written in it by heart now. Her name, her job as chief librarian on some university, address and telephones. Chief librarian, huh? That is so like her. He often catches himself wondering what the hell she is doing here, in London, and not married with Weasel with a handful of redhead babies. He is very curious.

Malfoy is in his business spot and has been for a while now. Girls (or guys) don't seem too interested in him that day. Or maybe it is because of the bad weather, a storm hunting above them all. Twitching his lips, he leans against a wall. Tiredness falls over him. He is going nuts from his nagging landlord and the fucking dirty neighbors that keep screaming all day. He closes his grey eyes, bends his head towards the wall. My kingdom for a freaking bed, he thinks... until something cold hits his forehead. A second later, rain falls over him, and over everyone in the street.

Draco can't help but smile. He likes the rain. After all those years, he is only able to feel at peace, to feel clean, when it rains. He opens his fair eyelashes, staring at the other male whores running around, getting into cars with customers, or fleeing to their homes. Home. That tumbledown flat is not his home. He waits until there is no one else there. Then, he walks forward towards the street until he reaches the curb.

He sits down, pulls his knees up, lets his arms swing, and then leans his elbows against his knees and lifts his head. He closes his eyes, and just... stays there. Feeling that blessed rain on him. He doesn't care that it is cold or that it is getting a bit stronger. He just wants to feel...

The rain is his only excuse to cry and not let anyone notice him. And so, Draco Malfoy cries.

..........

Hermione rushes into her car, cursing the rain and all those brats that made her walk them to their cars using that freaking huge umbrella. She is all wet; her dress feels like another skin on her. She starts her car and leaves the place. She has too much on her mind to pay attention to her way, and she enters the very street she is trying to avoid. His street. When she gets back to her senses, she starts to badmouth herself... but then, though, how silly of her. The sky is falling on the earth; there is no way he would be there.

She relaxes and slows down. After all, it is raining a lot. A few blocks ahead, she sees him. Sitting there, like an angel, his shirt open a bit, glued on him. What the hell?! She tries to continue. Tries not to mind. Tries a hell of lot not to freaking care...

But she does. She crashes her feet on the brakes, mad with herself.

..........

Draco had been there a couple of hours already. He hears cars passing by, not minding them at all. He hears another car getting close. He hears the car stopping just after it passes him. He doesn't care. The rain feels so nice. His tears had ended some time ago.

And suddenly, the rain stops hitting his pale face. Confused, he opens his eyes. And stares.

Two dark eyes glance at him. She is leaning a bit over him, blocking the rain with her small frame. Her dress, in some dark color he can't figure out, is soaked and tight around her body. Her hair is pulled up in a twisted bun, half falling apart. She glances over him, biting her lower lip, looking uncertain. Then, she offers her hand to him.

Nothing is said. Eyes speaking for themselves. He feels like crying all over again, something deep in his guts twisting. He takes a deep breath. Why the hell not?

He holds her hand and gets up to his feet. She stares at him. Quietly, she leads him to her car. He gets in, and she goes over to the driver’s seat. Hermione turns her car on and drives off, hoping she won't regret this. Draco looks at her, hoping the same thing.