A Decision

"I need to explain to Draco what happened and why I ran out," Hermione thought. "He didn't do anything wrong. But doing this will require me to let down the walls I have worked so hard to keep up."

Hermione just got off work and was on her way down to the Atrium, arguing with herself about what she should do about Draco. Did she have feelings for him? Should she listen to Harry and let down her walls, to tell Draco what happened and how she felt? She didn't want to be with anyone, but on the other hand, there was a huge contrast between him and any other person she had ever been with. He was the polar opposite. She didn't know what she was going to say to him, but she was going to trust Harry and say something, which frightened her beyond belief.

She Disapparated to Draco's house, and there was no answer when she knocked on his door and rang the doorbell.

"Hmm...well I may as well go home," she said, turning around to leave, but paused.

"No. No chickening out." Her heart was now beating faster than ever. "Maybe I'm having a heart attack," she mumbled while putting a hand to her chest where she could feel her heart pounding.

Not knowing where to go, she Disapparated to Brooks Mews Wine House, where she went with Ginny and Harry in the past. When she stood outside the establishment, it suddenly felt wrong to be there without her friends. She surveyed her surroundings, still really wanting a drink when she remembered a hotel down the street that had an elegant bar. She had only been there twice before because she was not like those people, not that it mattered to her, much. With the drink on her mind, she made her way to Claridge's Hotel.

When Hermione walked inside she didn't feel as out of place as before. Maybe it was the pantsuit that hinted she was wealthier than she was, therefore making her fit in nicely with the guests.

"Shit, my hair!" She hissed, feeling the chaotic mess on her head. "Well, I guess I was never meant to fit in with these people," she shrugged. Scanning the bar, she spotted a couple of people there and suddenly felt awkward. "Maybe I'll wait over here until it's cleared out," she mumbled while watching the bartender talk to someone.

She sighed and walked over to the centre of the room to take a seat, making sure nobody was close to her.

"What have I gotten myself into?" Around her was a group of people laughing. Were they laughing at the punchline of a funny joke? Maybe they were unkind folk and were making fun of someone.

She kept her eyes down and played with her fingers, a nervous habit she was developing as of late. About ten minutes later she heard an all too familiar voice which made her stomach drop. Gulping, she peeked up to find the source. It wasn't in the group of chuckling people or in the corner where two men sat whispering. Only when she heard the voice a second time did she see where it was coming from: The front desk. Her eyes practically popped out of her head at the sight.

"Is that Draco? Of course that's Draco, there's no mistaking that hair and posture. The way he holds himself with such confidence."

She watched as he spoke with the lady at the desk. There would only be one reason why he was there: To check into the hotel.

"It's ridiculously expensive," she whispered to herself, "of course Draco Malfoy would choose this one."

He was handed something, probably the key card to the room and started walking to the elevators. It was now or never.

She got up from her chair and sped over, calling him before he could get onto the elevator. "Draco! Draco Malfoy!" The blond-haired man turned around, and her heart flipped when she saw his face. It was clear he wanted to get on to the elevator, but he didn't, thankfully.